


Parallels

by IronShiba (wegglebots)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Edelgard is doing Her Best, F/F, Gay pining to lovers, They work at a gym lol, Weird dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:54:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wegglebots/pseuds/IronShiba
Summary: Sometimes you wonder if your life is nothing but a string of dreams, a story told in snippets and tucked away like fragments inside the pages of a book._______Edelgard is the owner of Black Eagles 24/7 Fitness. She just wants to be a good boss.Byleth has weird dreams. She wonders what they mean.(Modern AU with a little Fantasy AU scattered in there for extra flavor)
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary, Edelgard von Hresvelg & My Unit | Byleth, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 155
Kudos: 326





	1. Chapter 0: Prologue

Sometimes you wonder if your life is nothing but a string of dreams, a story told in snippets and tucked away like fragments inside the pages of a book.

You had asked the Priestess this, as you chopped wood outside your camp. It’s hot and humid, so you ended up taking off most of your armor. You set the pieces aside, arranging them as carefully as you can beside her. As you work away at chopping wood, she starts to fiddle with the pieces of your worn gear. Under the overcast sun it glints silver with red trimmings, ornate runes sprawling across the surface.

“Do you have weird dreams too?” you ask. You wipe the sweat gathering at your brow with the back of your hand. You feel sticky, your tunic sticking uncomfortably to your skin.

“Kind of?” she says. She traces over the old runes on your armor, whispering the ancient words that bring them back to life. “Good as new.”

“Can you read my dreams for me?” you ask, sitting down on the grass. You decide that it’s too hot to be chopping wood anyway. You lie down on your back, your arms spread wide open. The grass beneath you feels cool to the touch. The smell of earth fills your lungs. The blue sky above you seems so endless.

The Priestess makes her way towards you, setting the pieces of your armor aside. “What of the payment?” she asks. She lays down beside you, on her stomach. She rests her chin on the palm of one hand. The other plays with your blue hair.

“I chopped you some wood and caught you some fish,” you say, plainly.

“Yes, and what else?”

“Did the price for a reading increase? I have not been informed,” you say, laughing.

“I was kidding,” the Priestess says. She traces lines on your forehead. Familiar patterns, drawn across your skin. Her touch is light, but you feel the warmth of the old magic taking hold. You feel your eyelids grow heavy.

Whispering words that seem so familiar to you, she presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’ll take this as the payment.”

You fall asleep, and your dreams begin to unfurl.


	2. Chapter 1: A tiny explosion

Chapter 1: A tiny explosion

(Edelgard)

_This is how the story began._

Edelgard tapped away at her laptop’s keyboard, the clacking of keys filling the otherwise silent office. Her eyes drifted towards the clock on her screen. Just past midnight. She sighed, heavily. Massaged her throbbing temples. Leaned back in her office chair.

She thought about ditching the rest of her work. Maybe just throwing her laptop out the window. _Forget the upcoming event_ , she thought, _I just need a vacation_.

There was a knock on her office door. Edelgard snapped to attention, sitting up straight. She recalled that no one should be manning the night shift today. She cleared her throat. Pretended to still be working hard.

“Yes? Who is it?” she said.

The door opened slightly. It was Byleth, the new in-house coach that Edelgard had hired a month ago.

“Byleth,” said Edelgard, surprised. “You’re still here. Your shift finished hours ago.”

“Yeah,” she said, her expression stoic, almost unreadable. “The gym was mostly empty so I decided to sneak in a workout. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine. It is an employee ‘perk,’ after all.”

Byleth nodded. In the dim light of the office Edelgard could barelysee the shape of the muscles straining against the woman’s tight black shirt. Edelgard looked away. She reminded herself that she’s surrounded by fit people on the daily, and staring at an employee like that is pretty much harassment.

“Is there anything you wanted to talk about?” asked Edelgard, staring pointedly at her computer mouse.

“I brought you coffee.”

“Coffee?” Edelgard looked up. Byleth opened the door wider. In one hand she held two mugs of steaming liquid. Her forearm was flexed. Edelgard wondered how strong Byleth’s grip is, tracing lines along the woman’s arm.

Edelgard swallowed. Shook her head slightly. She decidedthat it was the exhaustion that made her think these things.

“Yes, you must be tired. You were here before I clocked in, so I thought you could use a boost.”

“Thank you,” said Edelgard, taken aback.

Byleth set a mug down on Edelgard’s desk. “One creamer, two sugars, yeah?” said Byleth.

“… Yeah,” went Edelgard. “How did you know?”

Byleth shrugged. “I’ve been watching you, I guess?”

It took every ounce of willpower in Edelgard’s 5’2 frame not to think too much about it. It was a battle she was losing. She opted to stare at the coffee on her desk instead. She reached out, took a sip.

It was exactly how she likes it.

Byleth smiled at her, small and soft. “Good?”

Edelgard smiled back, as a warmth she could not control spread over her cheeks. “Good.”

She had thought that the things to move one’s heart were always the biggest things. Grand gestures. Fireworks. She had thought these moments would come barreling into her life. A moment so large that it threatened to loom over all other events in one’s life. That’s how it seemed in the books and shows and movies. An explosion. _Boom!_ Reverberating within her, something so powerful that it would sweep her off her feet.

But this? This was a small gesture.

A coffee, set gently on her desk. A warm smile. A kind word. Light poured in through the windows, casting shadows all around the office. Still, even still, the world seemed radiant.

A tiny explosion, going off in her chest.

A tiny explosion, taking root in between the spaces of her ribs, filling her lungs with fire. A tiny, _tiny_ thing that slowly, surely bloomed right where her heart should be.

She looked to the coffee. To Byleth. Tiny explosions, going off with the rapid beating of her heart.

_Ah_ , she realized. _This is bad_.

_______

_This is where the story is now._

Edelgard holds her mug up high. “Cheers,” she says.

“Cheers!” shout the employees surrounding her in the cramped bar booth.

There’s the clinking of glasses. The shouting and chugging of beers. Laughter. Edelgard laughs along too, taking small sips of her drink.

The Korean barbeque place they’re at is cramped, with the entire team bunched close over their table. The grills in the middle sizzle as meat is tossed onto them and cooked. The smell of smoke, food, and alcohol permeates the area. The sound of Kpop hits plays over a distant speaker, drowned out by the chatter. Edelgard looks over the people surrounding her.

At one end of the table, her coaches scarf down bits of charred meat, the plates on their side rapidly stacking high. At the other end, her office staff chatter among themselves, ordering beer after beer in quick succession.

Edelgard guesses they must all have needed this break.

“Now Edie,” goes Dorothea, the brown-haired woman in charge of internal affairs. “A company-sponsored drinking party is all well and good, but don’t think we’ve forgotten about the team building event you promised!”

“Yeah!” goes Caspar, the blue-haired coach. “You promised us a beach outing!”

“Yes, yes,” says Edelgard, downing the rest of her beer. She gestures toward a waiter for another one. “I have not forgotten. But it’ll have to wait until after the annual Lion and Eagle event.”

“Indeed,” says Hubert, the tall, gaunt man in charge of external affairs. “Let us all focus on that for the time being. If the event flops, there will be no ‘beach party.’”

“Boo!” shouts Caspar.

“Boo!” chimes in Dorothea.

“I didn’t say it was cancelled,” says Hubert. “I just said we need to _focus_.”

“Oh _come now_ Hubert,” says Ferdinand, the orange-haired coach. “Let us not talk about any work-related matters! It is a party, after all.”

“But I didn’t even bring it —” Hubert stops mid sentence. Pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes, _fine,_ ” he says, groaning. He takes large gulps of his beer. Edelgard orders another for the man.

“Miss Edelgard?” chimes in Petra, another coach. “I am having a question, if that’s alright.”

“Again, I must insist that you drop the ‘Miss’ and call me just Edelgard,” says Edelgard. “But anyway, yes, what is it?”

“Are we having a company policy against dating in our gym work?”

From the corner of her eye, Edelgard could tell that Dorothea is suddenly very invested in the conversation. She leans even closer into the table. Edelgard stifles a chuckle with the back of her hand.

“Well,” says Edelgard, “we work at a small gym franchise, and I know you all well enough to trust each of you with your professional conduct, so, no. We don’t have a company policy against dating in the office.”

Petra nods, staring into her beer. There’s a wild flush on the woman’s tanned skin. Edelgard wonders if it’s the alcohol or if she’s thinking about dating one of her coworkers. It’s kind of endearing, she thinks.

“Oooh! Oooh! Me! Me! I have a queshtion!” slurs Lysithea, the receptionist.

“Wait,” interrupts Caspar, “should you be drinking? Aren’t you like, twelve?”

Lysithea punches Caspar on the shoulder. “I’m thwenty three, _dumbass_.”

“Like getting punched by a kitten,” goads Caspar. Lysithea growls.

Edelgard waves a hand. “What is it, Lysithea?”

Lysithea’s attention snaps back to Edelgard. “ _Ohmygosh_. Does the ‘okay to date’ policy like, extend to you?”

Dorothea breaks out into roaring laughter. Edelgard’s willing to bet that the two have been gossiping about this.

Edelgard finds herself looking at Byleth, who seems wholly focused on just scarfing down everything on the table. She forces herself to look away.

“I’m not answering that.”

“Oh come on Edie!” says Dorothea.

“Yeah, _coom_ _e_ _oooohn!”_ says Lysithea.

Edelgard feels her cheeks heating up. She’s about to say something when Byleth speaks up.

“Would you date one of us?” she deadpans, a piece of lettuce in one hand and chopsticks gripping pieces of almost burnt meat in the other.

Everyone at the table turns to look at Byleth, gaping at the woman. She blinks.

“Did I… ask something wrong?”

Everyone at the table shifts their focus on Edelgard, expecting an answer.

“Well?” says Hubert, smirking. “Would you date any of us, Edelgard?”

Edelgard looks up at Hubert, aghast. “E tu, Hubert?” she says. Hubert shrugs, chuckling to himself.

The pressure feels overwhelming. Edelgard decides to down another beer.

“If anyone asks me another question about my private life, the team building event is cancelled,” she declares, slamming her empty mug on the table.

The table erupts with protestation and laughter.

Edelgard thinks that maybe it’s just a trick of the light, but she could almost swear that Byleth looks disappointed.

_This is bad_ , she thinks, _really, really bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update chapters as "bundles" when necessary. It might be confusing to post some of these chaps individually given what I want to do with the story.
> 
> Also, the Mature rating is because I'm writing them as adults and will probably talk about them drinking/smoking occasionally. (Nothing severe, of course! But if you find that it's inappropriate, I am always open to talk about it, especially when I'm writing about things that make you uncomfortable.)


	3. Emails 1

From: Dorothea Arnault ([darnault@befitness.com](mailto:darnault@befitness.com))

To: Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Good day everyone!

Here are some general reminders about upcoming events and activities for us here at Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness.

1\. First of all, the annual Battle of the Lion and the Eagle is happening in a month from now! We have all been hard at work to make this event happen. Sign-ups will still be open until a week before the event, so coaches, make sure you get as many of your clients to sign up as you can. Head coach Byleth is in charge of monitoring all client sign-ups, so don’t forget to inform her whenever you have an interested party.

Our good friends at Blue Lion Barbell have graciously offered up their space to hold the event. That means it falls to us to provide any lacking equipment as well as any additional logistical needs they may have. Hubert is our main guy coordinating with them.

I am also excited to officially announce that this year, the amazing people over at Golden Deer Yoga Studio will be taking part as well! They’re going to be helping us with concessionaire and merchant booths. I am in charge of coordinating with them!

This is a community initiative to celebrate fitness, and this year we have opted for the following events:

  * A 5km fun run in the morning (spearheaded by Ferdinand, Caspar, and Felix (BLB))

  * A CrossFit-style group competition in the afternoon (spearheaded by Ingrid (BLB), Raphael (GDYS), and Byleth)

  * And we’ll finish strong with a community Zumba session (spearheaded by Petra, Hilda (GDYS), and Sylvain (BLB)).




If you have any further suggestions or ideas for this event, please feel free to forward them to Byleth.

2\. With the main stuff out of the way, I have some general company reminders for you all! This time, it’s just to remind employees (mainly Caspar), that you _should not_ be airing out your sweaty, used lifting gear at any location where the clients have access. I’m serious Mr. Bergliez, if I see your musty knee sleeves drying out and spreading their bacteria anywhere near a client I am personally taking them and burning them in the parking lot. You have been warned.

3\. Let’s end this email on a high note! Our Emperor, Edelgard Hresvelg, has spoken. There is no company policy against dating in the office. Time to go ask out your crush! That applies to you as well, your highness!

That will be it from me. Please respond to these email to acknowledge receipt. Have a great day!

Cheers,

Dorothea Arnault

Head of Internal Affairs

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Edelgard Hresvelg ([ehresvelg@befitness.com](mailto:ehresvelg@befitness.com))

To: Dorothea Arnault ([darnault@befitness.com](mailto:darnault@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Thank you very much for your email update Dorothea.

The event is drawing near, and I would like to request everyone’s support and cooperation during this time. Please let me know if you are experiencing any kind of trouble, and I promise I will do anything within my capability to assist.

As an aside, I’d like to remind you Dorothea that while your wit and charm is greatly appreciated, please refrain from threatening your fellow coworkers. Caspar, I have personally emailed you regarding the company policy. Our employee-only spaces should be adequate for the team’s personal equipment and needs, but if you have any other concerns, I would like you to raise them with me. Thank you.

(Additionally, let’s keep talk about dating _outside_ of our work emails, yes?)

Regards,

Edelgard Hresvelg

Owner and President

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Hubert Vestra ([hvestra@befitness.com](mailto:hvestra@befitness.com))

To: Dorothea Arnault ([darnault@befitness.com](mailto:darnault@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Confirming receipt of your email. Thank you for this, Miss Arnault.

At the time of my writing this, most logistical preparations with Blue Lion Barbell have been completed. We still have some final tasks lined up, however. Myself and Miss Hresvelg are assigned to do final inspections (such as for the route of the fun run), and we would greatly appreciate volunteers to help us with this. There is, after all, a lot of ground to cover.

Regards,

Hubert Vestra

Head of External Affairs

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Byleth Eisner ([beisner@befitness.com](mailto:beisner@befitness.com))

To: Dorothea Arnault ([darnault@befitness.com](mailto:darnault@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Confirming receipt. Thank you for the update Dorothea.

Best,

Byleth Eisner

Head Coach

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Lysithea Ordelia ([lordelia@befitness.com](mailto:lordelia@befitness.com))

To: Dorothea Arnault ([darnault@befitness.com](mailto:darnault@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Thank you for the email!

Reminding everyone to give me their shirt sizes for the custom shirts we will all be wearing. Deadline for this is two weeks from the event.

All certificates, medals, and trophies are currently under production.

Sincerely,

Lysithea Ordelia

Administrative Assistant

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Petra Macneary ([pmacneary@befitness.com](mailto:pmacneary@befitness.com))

To: Dorothea Arnault ([darnault@befitness.com](mailto:darnault@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Understood! Thank you for this email, Miss Arnault.

Sincerely,

Petra Macneary

Coach

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Ferdinand Aegir ([faegir@befitness.com](mailto:faegir@befitness.com))

To: Dorothea Arnault ([darnault@befitness.com](mailto:darnault@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Thank you very much for this update, Miss Arnault! I am brimming with anticipation for this upcoming event.

I would also like to volunteer my services for the purposes of route inspection. For someone such as myself, it should be a breeze! I have also approached Mr. Vestra regarding this matter.

Sincerest regards,

Ferdinand Aegir

Coach

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Caspar Bergliez ([cbergliez@befitness.com](mailto:cbergliez@befitness.com))

To: Dorothea Arnault ([darnault@befitness.com](mailto:darnault@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

My bad! Sorry Dorothea! It won’t happen again.

Cheers?

Caspar Bergliez

Coach

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing work emails as fictional characters is so surreal, ngl
> 
> (I also didn't really bother with researching the proper names of their positions and such, so I hope y'all will forgive me for that! hahaha)
> 
> Side note: I constantly get in trouble at work for emails that are "too casual" lmao. Standard work emails are just so... boring, yanno?


	4. Chapter 2: Laundry

(Byleth)

It’s 2 am by the time Byleth makes it back to her condo unit. She flicks on the light switches, tosses her keys into a bowl by the door, plops face down onto her old green couch.

Her unit is small, but Byleth’s never been one to need the extra space. A simple kitchen, simple dining area, simple bedroom, simple everything. White walls with the occasional brown accents. Plain tiled floors. Cheap furniture from the local department store.

Byleth sighs deeply into the fabric of her couch. Her workday was a flurry of clients. Her free time consumed by team huddles. Her muscles are aching. She’s hungry. She wants to sleep.

Laundry, she remembers. She needs to do the laundry.

She forces herself to get up. Rubs at her face with both hands. Rolls stiff shoulders, stretches her neck. One more push, she tells herself. She’ll go do the laundry, come back home, have herself a nice plate of fried whatever-is-in-the-fridge, and then watch some TV. Tomorrow she’ll report to her afternoon shift and do it all over again. She sighs again, even deeper this time.

How does Edelgard manage to keep working so hard?

Byleth isn’t sure why the thought comes to mind, really. When she left the office that day, Edelgard was in the process of finishing up with her work, typing away at her laptop, her focused gaze staring intently at the screen. Something about Edelgard just seems so… _distant_ to Byleth. Like she’s constantly hiding behind a facade of some kind. Byleth shakes her head. Maybe it’s weird to think about her boss like that.

She pads off to her bedroom, quickly changes into something more cozy, grabs her laundry basket, and heads off to the 24-hour self-service laundromat across the street.

The cool night air feels nice on Byleth’s skin. The streets are empty, nothing but the sound of Byleth’s slippers scraping against the concrete to keep her company. In the distance, the perpetual barking of a dog. The laundry in the basket in Byleth’s arms bounce with every stride. The lights of the laundromat across the street are dim, but welcoming. She pushes the old glass door open, the chime hung above it tinkling.

Byleth is surprised to find that there’s someone else there.

“Miss Hresvelg,” she says, balancing her laundry basket on her hip. “Good evening. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Edelgard looks up from her seat in the laundromat’s old couch, surprised. She’s wearing what Byleth would assume is her nightwear, a pair of loose pajama pants, a baggy shirt, fuzzy cat slippers. Her long brown hair looks damp in the dim light, loose strands of hair just let down instead of her usual intricate hairstyle.

_Cute_ , thinks Byleth, _Edelgard likes cats._

“Ah, Byleth,” goes Edelgard, “good evening.”

“Laundry?” asks Byleth, suddenly feeling very awkward and unsure of what else to say.

Edelgard points to one of the machines, sudsy clothes spinning in lazy circles. “Yes,” she answers, and after a pause, asks “You too?”

Byleth gestures to the basket in her arms, “Yeah.”

Edelgard nods, turns her attention back to scrolling on her phone. Byleth sets out to do her laundry. The laundromat is small, walls of silver washers and dryers surrounding a pair of back-to-back couches. She stuffs her clothes into the machine, only barely remembering to check her pockets. When she closes the door she remembers she forgot the soap back at her condo.

“Ah shit,” Byleth curses under her breath.

“What’s up?” chimes in Edelgard.

“Oh. Uh. Sorry,” goes Byleth, remembering that her boss is very much in the same room as her. She rubs the back of her neck.

“Hey,” says Edelgard, Byleth turns to look. Edelgard is sitting cross legged on the couch, a playful smirk on her lips. “We aren’t at work right now, it’s fine.”

There’s a weird churning at the pit of Byleth’s stomach. She must be hungry, she thinks.

“I forgot the soap,” says Byleth.

“You can have some of mine, if you like,” says Edelgard, pointing to the jug of detergent on top of one of the other machines.

“Hm, okay,” goes Byleth, reaching out for the detergent. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Byleth pours out the soap into the slot. The smell is nice, she thinks. What Edelgard’s clothes must smell like. Maybe what Edelgard smells like. Byleth’s stomach churns a little more. Her ribs feel like they’re digging into her lungs a little. _Wow,_ Byleth thinks, _I must be really hungry_.

She fishes out some loose change in her pocket, gets the machine to whir to life. She plops onto the couch beside Edelgard. The clothes in the machines tumble. The hum of florescent lights and washing machines fill the awkward silence.

Byleth feels antsy. Like she should do something. Talk, maybe? But she doesn’t know what to talk about. She feels hyper aware of Edelgard’s existence. Byleth tries to watch the woman from the corner of her eye. Edelgard seems to be scrolling away at her phone, not particularly focusing on any one thing on the screen but just furiously scrolling. Byleth wonders if that’s how most people browse social media. It’s certainly not how _she_ does it.

Edelgard clears her throat. Puts her phone away. “So,” she says, her face flushed somewhat, lips drawn into a tight line. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much,” says Byleth. “Just doing the laundry. You?”

“Yeah. Same.”

The awkward silence resumes. Byleth wishes she knew what else to say. Edelgard twiddles her thumbs a little. Stands up. She gestures toward the area outside the laundromat.

“I’ll ah, be outside for a minute,” she says.

“Okay.”

Byleth watches as Edelgard gets up, swings the door open, but freezes before she steps outside.

“Um, Byleth?” she says.

“Yeah?”

“Is this… uh, is this… yours?” Edelgard points to a piece of fabric on the laundromat’s entryway.

A pair of blue underwear.

“Ah _fuck_ ,” goes Byleth, standing up. She walks toward Edelgard, picks up the cloth. Smiling sheepishly, she holds it up. “Yup, sorry about that.”

“N-no… worries…” goes Edelgard, staring intently at one of the laundromat’s walls. The streetlights cast shadows on their features, but Byleth could see that the tips of Edelgard’s ears were a deep shade of red.

“ _Oof_ ,” goes Byleth, chuckling to herself, “it had to be the one with the holes, too.”

Edelgard turns to look at Byleth, a look of concern suddenly crossing her features.

“Um…” she goes. “I-is it because I don’t pay you enough?”

“Oh!” says Byleth waving a hand. “No, not at all! Sorry, I didn’t mean to… uh…”

“Are you sure? You can tell me these things, you know. Actually, I’d like it if you did.” Edelgard looks up at Byleth. There’s a softness to Edelgard’s features that Byleth has never seen before.Something in her lavender eyes that made Byleth want to scream a little. Byleth, for the life of her, struggles to understand her feelings.

“Don’t worry,” says Byleth. She pockets the underwear. Grins at Edelgard.

Edelgard seems to mull this over. “If you say so,” she says, smiling back. “I’ll just be right out here, okay?”

“Sure. Mind if I join you?”

Edelgard seems taken aback. “It’s fine,” she says. “I’d like the company.”

Byleth watches as Edelgard takes a few steps outside. Byleth follows, leaning against a wall. Edelgard pulls out a box of cigarettes. Takes out a stick. Lights it. The glow from the flame of her lighter lights up Edelgard’s features momentarily.

“Sorry,” goes Edelgard, holding up her cigarette, “do you mind?”

“No,” says Byleth, frowning. “But cigarettes are bad for you.”

“So I’ve heard,” says Edelgard, chuckling. She takes a long drag. Blows out a plume of smoke into the night air. Edelgard looks up, at the sky.

“Do you ever feel like no matter what you do, it’s just never enough?” Edelgard asks.

There it is again, Byleth thinks. That odd expression that Edelgard sometimes makes. Byleth is used to seeing Edelgard kept together. Hair perfectly styled, standing straight, shoulders squared. Byleth’s seen Edelgard make this odd expression a few times in the past. Especially when it’s just them in the late hours of the office.

“All the time,” Byleth admits.

In the night lights, Edelgard seems so small. She takes another long drag of her cigarette, the orange glow at the tip burning brighter.

The woman before her seems like nothing at all like the Edelgard at work. And Byleth doesn’t know why, but somehow it makes her chest feel tighter.

“We’re just doing our best, right?” asks Edelgard.

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s all we got, I think.”

Byleth can’t help but feel that she should say something more meaningful. Something with impact. Something deep. Something to reach out to the other woman. Reach out, and then what? Byleth isn’t sure. All she knows is that every inch of her seems to bristle with the desire to do _something._

From inside the laundromat, a buzzing rings out.

Edelgard seems to shake away her thoughts. She puts her cigarette out, throws the butt away in a nearby trashcan. “Sorry, that’s mine.”

Byleth is left to her thoughts outside. Unconsciously, she reaches up, to her chest. She balls up the fabric of her shirt. Her chest aches.

Later that night, it’s all that Byleth can think about, as she lies in bed, hand still clutching at her shirt. She had seen a side of Edelgard she’s never really seen much of. She wonders what Edelgard is really like. What Edelgard feels. Why Edelgard seems so _sad._ A small part of Byleth seems to bristle with the desire to see her smiling more. Her heavy eyelids fall shut, and only one thought seems to ring out in her mind.

She wants to know more about Edelgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hngggg I think Edelgard smoking seems Hot but that might just be me hekhek. 
> 
> Weirdly personal notes from me: I used to smoke back when I was in college. Then I quit for a few years and ended up picking up vaping. Moral of the story? Don't even start smoking/vaping. Lol.


	5. The girl in the cell

They had told you that the girl in the cell was dangerous.

They had told you to keep your distance, to watch your tongue, to be wary of the girl’s every word. Rumors spread around her like the threads of a spider’s web. They said the girl spoke the language of the pagan gods. They said the girl brought dead things back to life. They said the girl could curse as easily as she could breathe. Still, even still, they told you to keep watch over her. You were the only guard assigned to her.

You made your way down the dungeon’s stone steps. A prison where she was the only captive. All other prisoners were kept in another wing entirely. Your steps echoed throughout the chamber. Perpetually damp stone walls surrounding you on all sides. The air smelled thick, musty. You held your torch up high with one hand, the other balancing a tray with meager food on it on the other.

There, beyond the rusted steel bars, the girl.

She sat, hugging knees close to her chest, alone in her corner. She was born as royalty, you recalled, yet there she was, an unkempt woman wearing nothing more than the garb of a common prisoner. You set the tray down, pushed it through the small slot between the bars. You said nothing, as you were commanded by his majesty.

The girl did not move. You held your torch up higher. Wondered if she was awake. There, in the darkness, lavender eyes regarded you with unease.

Her voice was small, hoarse. “What happened to the other knight?” she had asked.

Bile rose from the pit of your stomach. Your legs felt like they were about to give out. Still, you bit your tongue. You set to lighting the wall sconces that had long gone out.

“I see,” said the girl. “Jeralt was far too kind.”

You bristled at the sound of your father’s name. Without thinking, you stepped forward, angrily, grabbing the bars of the girl’s cell.

“Speak not of my father’s name,” you had hissed.

The girl’s eyes had widened. “So you are Byleth?”

How did she know your name?

“Your father loved to talk about you.”

Could she read thoughts like the rumors went?

“He told me that you were never one for idle chatter.”

Did she used her pagan magic on her father, like his majesty had said?

“He was the only knight in the entire castle to show me kindness.”

What else did she know?

“Can you please tell me what happened of him?”

“My father was put to the sword,” you said, even though you were commanded not to speak. “He was accused of conspiring against the crown.”

The girl said nothing then. She rose to her feet. Took a few, shaky steps toward the bars, toward you.

Your hand went to the hilt of your blade. “Stay back,” you threatened.

Still, the girl stepped forward. The low burning fires along the dungeon walls cast their light on her features. Pale skin, snowy white hair, lavender eyes. An odd sensation tugged at you from the back of your mind. Familiarity. Somehow, you felt as if you knew this girl. She wrapped her fingers around the bars that held her captive.

“So,” she said, “my uncle sends the knight’s daughter to watch over me, no doubt telling you that you should be grateful you were even spared your life.”

That was what his majesty had said.

“ _Hmph_ ,” she continued, “see how he mocks us by throwing us at one another?”

“Do not…” you said, struggling with the words, “… speak ill of his majesty.”

“Why, because he was so kind as to kill your father then have you watch the girl that caused his death?”

You grit your teeth, hand tightening around your sword’s handle. “Watch your tongue,” you growled.

The girl did not balk. There was no fear in her eyes. The firelight seemed to reflect off of them. They burned, deep and unrelenting. She leaned closer to the bars, the gaps wide enough for her face to fit through.

“Do you know why they keep me here?” she said.

You said nothing, your muscles taut, ready to draw your blade at a moment’s notice. The girl continued to speak, unfazed.

“I was born with hair as white as ash. Skin as pale as freshly fallen snow. When my parents died, my uncle stepped forward, bishop in tow. They learned that I had a talent for the old magic, ‘heathen magic,’ as the bishop called it, and it was the final nail in the coffin. I was not fit to rule. My uncle donned the crown upon his brow. I was thrown into the dungeons to rot.”

She paused. Her eyes regarded you with a quiet intensity. In a way, it felt less like you were judging her, and more like she was judging you. There was a mournfulness to her expression that somehow felt like something you have seen before. You continued to listen. The more rational side to you compelled you to leave, to turn on your heel and leave the girl to her ramblings.

Yet still, even still, you listened.

“Touched by death, they had called me,” she finally said. She looked away.

All you knew was fighting, eating, and sleeping. All you cared about was you and your father. The man on the throne deigned it his wish to take your father away from you. That same man decided to throw you away by making you watch some girl in a cell. It was stupid. It was all so stupid. So in turn for all the stupidity hurled at you, you decided to make the best out of what you were given. If you were to watch the girl, then watch the girl you shall do.

Your father’s last words to you echoed in your head.

_Listen to your gut_ , he had said. So you stood your ground. Because your gut was telling you it was the right thing to do. You sighed, deeply. You sat on the stone floor, cross legged. Your armor was bulky and cumbersome, but with a little bit of effort you managed to find a position that was somewhat comfortable. As comfortable as sitting in a damp dungeon with a potential heathen priestess could get.

The girl seemed surprised. Perhaps she had underestimated you. A new feeling began to churn at the pit of your stomach. Your gut told you to keep rolling with it. And so you did.

“They call me the Ashen Demon,” you said. “So maybe I’m touched by death too.”

The girl said nothing. The expression on her face shifted. You felt the gaze upon you grow more intense with every passing second. If she was testing you, you had no plans of playing along. Across you, with nothing but a set of metal bars between you, she sat down.

“Do you know how to play cards?” you asked. You pulled out a worn deck from a pouch on your belt.

She blinked a few times, her mouth agape.

“Cards,” you repeated. “Do you know how?” You held your deck up closer to her face.

“I… yes.” she said.

You began to shuffle the deck.

“Did they not tell you to be wary of me?” she asked.

You continued to shuffle the cards. “They did. I was expressly forbidden to speak to you.”

“Then what are you doing? It’s true, what they say. I can cast the old magic.”

“We’re playing cards now.” You dealt her cards. Dealt yourself cards. You fanned them out in your hand.

She looked down to the cards you had offered you. Looked up to squint at you.

“If I so please, I could weave magic and steal your heart.”

“Bold claim,” you said, grinning. “Win this game first, Priestess.”

You knew not why, not then, not there, but somehow, it felt natural to smile at her.

Your gut seemed content. Your father was a smart man. He would not have done something foolish. So if it was true that he was kind to the Priestess, then you decided to be kind as well.

Hesitantly, the Priestess picked up the cards. She fanned them out in her hand. After a short pause, she spoke, her voice softer than how she first regarded you.

“What game are we playing?”

“Old maid.”

“Ah. I see.”

You pulled out pairs of cards, discarded them in a pile in front of you. She did the same.

“You know,” she said, “your father did say you were an odd one.”

“Ah,” you answered. “We were having a moment. You ruined it.”

She laughed. It sounded like the tinkling of chimes, pleasant to your ears. Your gut seemed to rumble with a feeling you knew you should avoid if you wanted to live out your days peacefully.

Against all the better logic in all of the kingdom, you decided you quite liked her laughter, and would like to hear it more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry folks, not a double chapter update today. Hopefully I'll be able to write another chap soon so it's not... too... confusing? Idk let's just see lol


	6. Chapter 3: A small change

(Edelgard)

It’s the late afternoon when Edelgard makes it to the gym. It’s a one-floor establishment, with a “Black Eagles 24/7 Fitness” sign atop the building. The walls are mostly glass, with posters promoting the various classes and membership sales posted all around. Edelgard parks at her usual spot, like she always has, in the many years that she’s been running the establishment.

She walks through the double doors, iced coffee in hand. She surveys the gym, like she always has.

The gym is the same as it ever is — the distant throb of music over speakers, the ever-present smell of sweat, the clatter of weights and the occasional grunt or two. Reds and blacks adorn the entire gym, with the occasional splash of white and brown every now and then.

The entryway features the reception area, a simple counter with a pair of computer monitors. Behind the counter is a small fridge for sports drinks that they sell. Opposite the receptionist’s desk is a small lounging area with couches and a few racks for with shirts, tumblers, and bags featuring the gym’s logo. Beyond the lounge is a door that leads into the gym’s office space, where she, Hubert, and Dorothea work most of the day and where the coaches generally take their breaks.

Beyond the entryway is the gym proper, generally organized into three areas. First is the cardio area, with treadmills, ellipticals, and stationary bikes. Second is the weights area, with some machines, barbells, racks, and dumbbells. Third is the class area, which is in it’s own room, where the coaches hold group classes on a set schedule.

It seems to be a slow day, which is fairly standard considering it’s a Wednesday afternoon. Only a few clients mill about. Doing one workout or another. Caspar seems busy coaching an elderly-looking professor. Petra is spotting another client while they bench press. Ferdinand is leading a group spin class. Edelgard walks up to the reception counter. Sets her coffee down.

Byleth is behind the counter and beside her is Bernadetta, the gym’s other administrative assistant. The two don’t even seem to notice Edelgard’s approach. They’re immersed in whatever game Byleth is playing on her handheld console, Bernadetta pointing at the screen and giving pointers in hushed tones.

“Playing games at work, are we?” says Edelgard, eyebrow raised.

Bernadetta squeaks, trying to cover the console in Byleth’s hands with both hands. Byleth smiles. When she realizes that she has been caught, Bernadetta ducks under the receptionist’s desk.

“Dr. Manuela canceled on me today, so I got free time,” Byleth says. “Bernadetta was showing me some cool games to play.”

Bernadetta audibly sighs from her hiding spot, but remains hidden. “I was showing Byleth how to play visual novels.”

“I… see.”

“Pleasedon’tbemad,” Bernadetta sputters from behind the table.

Byleth frowns. “Please don’t scold Bernadetta,” she says, looking sadly up at Edelgard. “It was my idea. I’ll take responsibility.”

Edelgard pinches the bridge of her nose. _Great_ , she thinks, _I’ve lost all will to be upset._

Byleth blinks at her like a sad, lost puppy. Edelgard wants to ruffle the woman’s hair. But she doesn’t. Because she remembers she’s Byleth’s boss and ruffling an employee’s hair is a violation of some kind. Or something. Edelgard isn’t sure. She’s only made it about five feet into the gym before Byleth’s general existence has made her insides go all fuzzy. It’s not a promising start to the woman’s day.

“Oh right,” says Byleth, setting down her console. “Thank you again for the other day. Your detergent smells nice.”

Edelgard fights the urge to just turn around and run screaming back to her car. The tips of her ears feel warm. Not at all a promising start for Edelgard’s day.

Bernadetta peeks from behind the counter, an inquisitive look in her eyes. “Detergent?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yeah, Edelgard let me use her detergent,” Byleth says simply.

The puzzled look on Bernadetta’s face seems to grow a hundredfold. Edelgard squints at her.

“ _Eeeep!_ ” Bernadetta squeaks, retreating further behind the safety of the counter. “I won’t tell Dorothea or Lysithea! I swear!”

“What does Dorothea or Lysithea have to do with Edelgard giving me detergent?” asks Byleth.

“Beats me,” says Edelgard, her tone even. “ _Right_ , Bernadetta?”

“ _Right_.”

Byleth seems to consider this for a moment. She shrugs. “Okay,” she says.

Edelgard picks her coffee up again. “You’re welcome, by the way, Byleth.”

Byleth grins. The kind of soft, almost lazy grin that makes Edelgard feel like confetti. She quickly turns, faces the office wall. She clears her throat.

“By the way Bernadetta,” Edelgard says, trying to distract herself from staring too hard at her employee. “It’s one thing to skip out on employee gatherings, but please reply to email threads, at the very least, okay?”

“ _Okay,”_ comes Bernadetta’s answer, barely audible.

Edelgard finds Hubert and Dorothea out in the back, in the employee smoking area. Their chatter is interrupted when Edelgard steps out.

“Speak of the devil,” says Hubert. He takes a puff of his cigarette.

“Hmm?” goes Edelgard, as she sets her coffee down on a small metal bench. She reaches into her pocket, pulls out a cigarette of her own. Hubert lights it for her.

“Dorothea was telling me how Byleth _allegedly_ smells like you.”

Edelgard chokes on the smoke of her cigarette.

“Not _allegedly_ ” goes Dorothea. “ _Definitely_.”

“Care to explain?” Hubert says dryly.

Edelgard thumps at her chest a few times. Regains her composure. “I ran into Byleth in the laundromat a few days ago and she forgot her detergent.”

“How sweet of you to offer some of yours then,” says Hubert, smirking.

Dorothea squeals.

“Ugh,” goes Edelgard, “it’s just soap.” She shakes her head. Takes a long drag out of her cigarette. From the corner of her eye, she sees Dorothea take a puff from her vape pen. “Should I even ask why you know what my detergent smells like and how on earth you’ve managed to figure out that Byleth smells like it?”

“Edie, being gay is a fucking curse, I’m telling you.”

Edelgard and Hubert exchange a look.

“Dorothea, none of us here are straight,” she says.

“Sorry, being gay _with a sense of smell_ is a fucking curse,” Dorothea retorts.

Hubert chuckles. “The woman gets herself a vape pen and suddenly she’s on the moral high ground.”

“Cigarettes are bad for you,” says Dorothea. She takes a drag from her device. Blows a strawberry-scented cloud in their faces. They wave it away.

“Yeah, sure,” goes Edelgard, “you’re doing _sooo much_ better than us.”

“Besides,” quips Hubert, “you only ever got that thing because you’ve been going out with Petra.”

“No way,” gasps Edelgard. “How come you haven’t told me about this?”

“ _Myeh,_ ” goes Dorothea. “It doesn’t seem like anything worth reporting, you know what I mean? It’s just like, talking over coffee. Just chill stuff. _Chill_.”

Hubert speaks up, grinning. “Edelgard can’t even talk to Byleth without looking like she’s about to implode, so I think you’re doing far better.” He laughs to himself.

Edelgard blushes. She growls. “ _That’s not true,_ ” she says.

“Yeah, your blushing face is very convincing,” says Dorothea.

“ _Back to Dorothea_ ,” says Edelgard, pouting.

Hubert and Dorothea laugh.

“Well anyway,” says Dorothea, “turns out Petra’s not really into the smell of cigarettes, so I switched to this thing here.”

Edelgard hums. She wonders, briefly, if Byleth dislikes the scent too.

Just then, the back door opens. Byleth peeks out.

“Just got a call from Blue Lion,” she says, “they said a group of weirdos is trying to sign up for the CrossFit event.”

“I got this one,” says Hubert, putting out his cigarette. He walks back into the gym, Byleth making space for him at the door way.

Byleth is about to go back in too, but she lingers. She looks to the cigarette in Edelgard’s hand, then to Dorothea, and then to Edelgard. She seems to carefully consider what she’s about to say next, her jaw set, her lips pressed into a fine line.

“You and Dorothea are pretty close, huh?” she finally says. She doesn’t wait for a response, turning to go back into the gym and closing the door behind her. There’s a short pause while the two just stare at the door. Edelgard blinks a few times, surprised.

“Well isn’t that interesting?” says Dorothea, winking at Edelgard.

The pit of Edelgard’s stomach seems to sink. She wonders what that was about. She looks to the cigarette perched in between her fingertips, the tip glowing a low orange. Ashes fall off. Edelgard snuffs it out in the ashtray.

“By the way, Edie, you’re looking pretty tired. You okay? Getting enough sleep?” Dorothea looks at Edelgard, a look of genuine concern crossing her features.

“Weird dreams again,” says Edelgard, looking away. After a pause, she speaks up again.

“Hey,” she says, “mind if I try a puff of that vape pen of yours?”

Dorothea sighs, shakes her head. She smiles a little, a bit forced. Edelgard takes it for what it is.

“Earlier it’s making fun of me, but your crush looks disapprovingly at you one time and suddenly you’re singing a different song, huh?”

“Being gay fucking sucks, Dorothea.”

Dorothea hands Edelgard her vape pen.

“It really does,” she says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes:
> 
> 1\. Yes, I actually did forget to include Bernie-bear. Sorry if it's weirdly jarring how I had to stuff her into this fic. I was gonna let it be after I realized I forgot to include her a few chaps ago (plus I'm not confident I can pull off a good Bernadetta), but I played some FE3H the other day and homegirl straight up almost single-handedly cleared an entire map with crit after crit. So here we are. 
> 
> 2\. I also remembered to describe the actual setting of the fic lol. To be fair, it's only the third chap of the modern part, so it's not too late. 
> 
> 3\. Yes, the weird anti-smoking (and by extension, anti-vaping) agenda is going on strong. Sorry if it's off-putting for some. I promise I really am going somewhere with it. 
> 
> 4\. Thank you all for reading and leaving such nice comments. They inspire me to keep going! I'll reply when I have some free time hehe.


	7. Chapter 4: Late nights to talk about nothing

Chapter 4: Late nights to talk about nothing

(Edelgard)

It’s pushing 4 am by the time Edelgard shuts her work computer off.

She massages her throbbing temples. She reaches out to take another gulp of coffee from the mug on her desk. It’s empty. Edelgard frowns, sighs deeply. She stands up, stretches. Her low back is aching. Her knees are stiff. Her eyes feel dry and sore. The office is quiet, nothing but the ticking of the clock on the office’s far wall punctuating every passing second.

Mug in hand, she walks to the coffee machine to hopefully get a little bit more for the journey home. She sets her mug down on the table beside the machine. She pulls the coffee pot out of its container. Swirls the dregs of the remaining blackish liquid. She blinks.

Suddenly her hand is marred with hundreds of tiny scars.

Tiny wounds, healed over and over again. They look like cuts, no doubt made by a knife, deep and shallow alike. Small slices wrapping around her fingers. Deep cuts gouged on her palm. Jagged marks on the back of her hand. The old scars look shiny in the dim office light.

Edelgard gasps. Loses her grip on the coffee pot. It shatters on the ground at her feet, coffee spilling everywhere. Glass shards glinting in the light, dark liquid spreading at Edelgard’s feet. She takes a few steps back. She stares at her open hand, trembling, trembling.

She blinks again.

Her hand is normal. Like nothing had ever happened. She turns it over and over. Opens and closes the fingers. Smooth, pale skin. No sign of wounds or injuries. Only callouses from working with barbells. Normal.

The office door opens suddenly.

“Edelgard?” comes Byleth’s voice. “I heard a shattering sound. Are you okay?”

Edelgard turns to look at the doorway.

There, a knight, clad in shining silver armor with red trimmings. “Priestess, are you hurt?”

Edelgard squeezes her eyes shut. Pinches the bridge of her nose. Takes a few, deep breaths. When she opens them again, she finds Byleth, wearing her usual coach’s uniform — form-fitting shirt, baggy, tapered sweatpants. Edelgard realizes that maybe she’s more exhausted than she initially thought.

Byleth waves a hand in front of Edelgard’s face. “Did you hear me?” she asks. “I was asking if you’re okay.”

“Oh,” goes Edelgard, “I’m… I’m fine. I just… my hand just slipped, is all.”

“Why don’t you go lay down on the lounge’s couch for a bit?” says Byleth. “I’ll take care of things here.”

Numbly, Edelgard nods. She walks out to the empty gym, most of the lights shut off. She lies down on the couch, looks up at the ceiling.

What was that? It had only been for a moment, fleeting, but Edelgard knew she saw what she saw.

She decides it’s just exhaustion. Just stress. Maybe she’s just pushing herself a little too hard. Maybe she needs to just take a long nap or something. A nap, for an hour or two. Then she can go back to her emails. She still needs to send reports to her uncle. Still needs to prepare for a presentation for the weekend. Still needs to contribute to the family company. She could almost hear her uncle’s taunting voice, at the back of her head. Mocking her. Telling her that her “little gym” is nothing but a distraction.

Edelgard sits up. Buries her face into her hands. Groans.

She hears someone plop onto the couch opposite hers. Edelgard turns to look. It’s Byleth. _Regular_ Byleth.

“You seem pretty stressed,” she says, her features neutral. Unreadable.

“I… am.”

“I don’t think running a small gym franchise is _that_ stressful, especially for someone like you.”

“What are you getting at?”

“I don’t mean to offend you. I’m just wondering if there’s anything else you’re working on that’s making you run yourself into the ground.”

Edelgard affixes Byleth with a steady gaze. Trying to see what Byleth’s intentions are with her line of questioning. Moonlight pours in from the gym’s glass windows. It frames her messy hair, her blue eyes, her solid frame.

“Beautiful,” says Edelgard, without thinking.

“Excuse me?”

Edelgard looks away, cheeks burning. She curses herself internally. Her pulse skyrockets.

“Pitiful, I said. _Pitiful._ The ah… coffee pot. Pitiful.”

“Oh,” goes Byleth. “Yeah, Old Reliable has finally kicked the bucket.” She chuckles.

Edelgard clears her throat. Sits up a little straighter.

“Don’t worry,” says Byleth. She holds a finger up to her lips. “I won’t tell anyone what happened.” She winks.

For a moment, Edelgard thinks her heart has stopped.

“… Thanks,” she manages to say.

Byleth grins back at her. Edelgard smiles.

It’s not something Edelgard wants to think too much about, but she can’t deny it. She feels safe. Invincible, somehow. Like all the stress and all the worries were slowly melting away. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt her to indulge. Just a little.

“To answer your question,” says Edelgard, “I was supposed to be the CEO of my family company, but I declined the position. I opted to open this gym instead. My relatives aren’t making it any easy. I still work for them.”

Byleth seems to mull this over. “That sounds terrible,” she says.

“It pays the bills, at the very least,” says Edelgard, almost bitterly. Unpleasant feelings begin to rise from the pit of her stomach. She decides she doesn’t want to deal with them. Not now.

She shakes her head. “Anyway,” she says, “it’s late Byleth, why are you still here? I’m pretty sure Caspar is supposed to be today’s night shift.”

“Hmm,” goes Byleth, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “Is it weird if I say it’s because I wanted to keep you company?”

Again, Edelgard’s heart feels like it’s stopped. Then it starts, again, with renewed vigor. Her ears feel like they’re buzzing. A weird, electric warmth seems to course through her veins.

“What do you mean?” she manages to ask.

“I swapped shifts with Caspar because I felt like keeping you company today.”

_Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. For the love of fucking god don’t think about it._ Edelgard repeats the thoughts in her head, a silent mantra to retain her hold on the final fragments of her sanity.

She clears her throat again. Decides that it’s for the sake of her preserving her position as a decent boss to change the subject. “Byleth, you look pretty tired yourself, are you okay?”

“Hmm,” goes Byleth, “been having weird dreams lately.”

“Weird dreams, huh?”

“Yeah. You ever get those?” Byleth asks, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side. _Cute_ , Edelgard thinks, before she forces her remaining rational brain cells to focus.

“Kind of?” answers Edelgard.

Byleth nods. She pulls a deck of cards out of her pocket. “Wanna play cards?”

Edelgard gapes Byleth, at the cards she just magically pulled out of her pocket.

“Sometimes I play a little bit of cards with the new clients. It helps them open up.”

“Oh. I see.”

“Well,” says Byleth. “Wanna play?”

Edelgard chuckles lightly. “Sure,” she says.

Byleth shuffles the cards. She leans over the low coffee table in between them. She deals the cards out. They hold the cards in their hands, fanning them. Edelgard moves to remove a pair of cards from her hands, but she freezes.

“Wait,” she says, looking up at Byleth. “What game are we playing?”

“Old maid. Like we always do.”

“Ah yes, of course,” says Edelgard, smiling. She pulls out pairs of cards from her hands, discards them in a pile in front of her. Byleth does the same.

The thought is sudden, striking. _Wait,_ thinks Edelgard, _like we always do?_

“Byleth, forgive me but,” says Edelgard, “isn’t this the first time we’re playing cards?”

Byleth blinks a few times, in the process of discarding a pair of queens. “Ah,” she says, looking at Edelgard, “you’re right.” Byleth shrugs. “I guess it just felt natural.”

Edelgard looks down at her cards. “Natural,” she repeats.

“Can I ask you a weirdly personal question?” asks Byleth. She discards a pair of cards.

“You already asked me a weirdly personal question,” says Edelgard, grinning.

“Oh. Another one then.” Byleth scratches the tip of her nose. There’s a light blush dusting her cheeks. Edelgard hides her growing smile with her cards.

“You _can_ ask,” says Edelgard. She discards a pair of cards too. “Whether or not I’ll answer depends on the question.”

Byleth seems to mull this over. She goes over her remaining cards, gestures to Edelgard that she’s ready to pull from Edelgard’s hand. “What are your weird dreams about?”

Edelgard leans over, pulls a card from Byleth’s hand. “You first,” she says, smirking. She discards a pair of cards.

Byleth pulls a card from Edelgard’s hand. Frowns at it. Leaning back, she looks out the window.

“I dream that I’m a knight,” says Byleth. “I go fishing at the lake near the castle ruins. There’s a priestess girl in my dreams that likes it when I bring home fresh fish. The girl is… sad. She makes me wish I was better at… the whole talking thing.”

“I see,” says Edelgard. She snatches a card from Byleth’s hand. No pairs. “I dream that I was locked away in a dark dungeon. I have powers, but every time I use them it eats away at my lifespan.”

Byleth frowns. “Your dreams sound sad,” she says. She pulls a card from Edelgard’s hand. Discards a pair.

“Yeah,” says Edelgard, pulling another card from Byleth’s hand. She discards a pair too. “It’s sad until a… _person_ comes to help the me in my dreams.” Edelgard notes to herself to avoid saying “knight.”

“The person is terribly awkward, but they make me feel like I can break myself free.”

“That sounds much nicer.”

Edelgard looks at their remaining cards. They each have two left. She laughs. “Byleth, did you forget to shuffle in the joker or exclude a card?”

“Ah,” goes Byleth. She smiles sheepishly. “Whoops.”

Shrugging, Edelgard moves to take a card from Byleth’s hand. Byleth does the same. They toss their cards down at the same time, laughing.

There it is again, Edelgard thinks. That feeling, that wild, wild warmth spreading through her body. Taking root in her chest, settling on her aching bones. She imagines a garden, blooming with life over the old stones of a ruined castle. She imagines a warm hearth. She imagines a loving embrace.

“Hey,” goes Byleth, “let me drive you home tonight.”

Edelgard blushes. “What?”

“I’ll drive you home so you can take it a little easier.”

“Oh. I see. I brought a car with me though.”

“It’s fine,” says Byleth with a wave of the hand. “Just leave it here. You can bring it home tomorrow.”

“I’m supposed to make a visit to Blue Lion tomorrow though.”

“Then I’ll pick you up and drive you there. It’s my day off.”

“What?” goes Edelgard, “I can’t possibly make you drive me around on your day off.”

“I _want_ to,” says Byleth.

Something in the firmness of Byleth’s voice seems to make Edelgard’s very core shake. _This is bad_ , Edelgard thinks. But she’s too tired to turn her away. Too tired to deny herself these small things.

“W-what about the gym? What if a client comes in?” says Edelgard, unsure. She wants to give in. She desperately wants to give in. Everything about Byleth seems so warm. So _reassuring._

“I’ll post a note on the door. Make up some excuse for a sudden short closure. Like a broken pipe or something.” Byleth chuckles. “I’ll text Petra to open things back up when she gets in for her 6 am shift.”

Edelgard knows she should decline. She should return to her house alone. She should let things play out as they did before. But Byleth is looking at her, deep into her eyes. Edelgard can’t look away. The warmth in her chest beats along with her racing heart. Hope, taking hold into every fiber of her being.

“Okay,” says Edelgard. “Let’s do that. Thank you Byleth. I really appreciate this.”

“For you, my lady? Anything,” says Byleth, grinning from ear to ear.

And for the first time in Edelgard’s life she feels like it’s okay to want things for herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhhhh I still have work later I need to sleep wish me luck y'all this fic is consuming my life now lmaaao
> 
> I find it hard to sleep when I got all these ideas and they demand to be written this instant. I am only one tiny gay with two hands.


	8. Chapter 5: Hresvelg Helpdesk

(Byleth)

It’s almost sunrise by the time Byleth makes it home.

She plops onto her bed. Pulls out her phone and jams the cable into the slot to charge it. She checks her messages.

One is from Edelgard, thanking her for driving her home and reminding her to meet her at her condo by 11 am. Attached are her address details. The text fills Byleth’s chest with a pleasant warmth. She smiles to herself, replying with an “Ok :)” to the text.

She then moves to check the group chat that Lysithea had made for her and some of the other gym staff. She scrolls along, reading the messages that she seems to have missed throughout the day, starting with the last few messages she sent.

_______

Hresvelg Helpdesk

Members: You, Lysithea, Caspar, and 3 others

Broleth

Thanks for making this chat group, Lysithea.

I’m not very good with words

I appreciate all the advice to be better friends

with Edelgard

will try to offer to drive her home later

thanks for offering to swap shifts cspar

Caspar

Lysithea

we still love u no matter how weird and awkward u are

go get that “friend”

Caspy

np bro lets get it

BernieBear

dont forget to update us later!!!! Good luck!!!!!

Dr. Lindhardt

why am I in this chat group again?

Caspy

y not bro

Lysithea

ya, y not bro

BernieBear

y not bro

Petraaaa

why not brother

Dr. Lindhardt

ok fine

Lysithea

oh!!!! @Broleth, if you end up meeting her on ur day off, make sure to wear something nice

I think Boss is into ur muscles

she gay af

BernieBear

lol tru she likes to take a workout break at the same time that @Broleth is working out for a reason

Caspy

Guys, reminder that @Broleth is looking for a FRIEND, let’s not make it confusing

wink wonk

Lysithea

Rite rite, sorry hahaha

Petraaaa

I received a rumor about Edelgard recently

BernieBear

???????

Lysithea

??????????

Caspy

BRO WHAT IS IT I NEED TO KNOW

Petraaaa

Dorothea and Edelgard used to be dating in college

Lysithea

WHAAT

BernieBear

WTF???????? BUT THEY SEEM SO FRIENDLY??????

Dr. Lindhardt

Oh wow that’s quite interesting

Caspy

AAAAAAAAA

Petraaaa

Doro was telling me they were breaking up after only a month of the dating though

Caspy

ooooof,,,,

Lysithea

wait,,, who broke up with who?

BernieBear

^ v important

Petraaaa

Edelgard did the breaking up

Don’t know how to be feeling about this

I am worried that Doro still has feelings for Edelgard

Even after many years have passed

BernieBear

are you guys still seeing each other?

Petraaaa

Yes

Maybe I should be stopping until it is clear?

BernieBear

dating is hard idk what to tell u

Lysithea

omg I’m so sorry @Petraaaa

maybe stop if you don’t know for sure?

Idk what to tell u either

Caspy

Idk maybe if u challenge Boss to a lift-off and u win

u’l get dorothea to move on cuz you are stronger and therefore the better dating choice

Dr. Lindhardt

This is definitely the worst chat group for dating advice to have ever existed.

Good night.

Petraaaa

I feel better just speaking about it with someone else

Thank you

Not going to be lying, I would like to prove I am stronger than Edelgard

Caspy

omg yas

Lysithea

UGH YOU GUYS

MUSCLES DONT SOLVE EVERYTHING

Caspy

WRONG MUSCLES SOLVE EVERYTHING

BernieBear

I saw @Caspy punch the vending machine across the street from the gym so hard

that half the snacks fell out

consider me a believer because @Caspy gave me snacks

Caspy

SEE

Lysithea

I remain a non-believer bc I didnt get any snacks GRRRR

Broleth

To update, was able to drive Edelgard home

her house is fancy

tomorrow I drive her to blb for work thing

I’ll wear a nice shirt

maybe I’ll ask Edelgard about Dorothea for you @Petraaaa

_______

Byleth shuts her phone’s screen off, tosses it beside her. The revelation about Dorothea and Edelgard dating in college shouldn’t be anything alarming to Byleth.

She turns to her side. Closes her eyes. Wonders why her chest is aching and why the pit of her stomach seems to have dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I regret to inform you all that I am, in fact, not good at coming up with cute chat nicknames. Also, hopefully the formatting isn't too complicated lol


	9. The things you want

You realize you must be having a dream that’s stranger than most.

Usually, your dreams are about a world without knights and castles. A world without magic the way you know it, one with marvelous machinery and technology beyond your wildest imagination. In your dreams you’re yourself, but also different. You train people in a place called a “gym,” and you don’t quite understand the nature of the training (there’s no war, as far as you can tell), but most people seem to actively pay to receive your tutelage.

You remember what the Priestess — what Edelgard — had told you about it. Something about the soul being reborn but the flesh being mortal. You begin to doubt if you actually do remember what she said. You just know that the important part is that dreams are supposedly a window into the other lives that your soul leads.

Which is why you know this dream is unusual.

You’re in the castle’s throne room. Or at least, what remains of it. You’re surrounded by destruction, standing in a crater of crushed stone, wood, earth. What should be chandeliers hanging from a masterfully painted ceiling is no more. Above you, the night sky, thick, swirling clouds gathering above an enormous glowing light.

A dream about the Night of the Ruptured Sky.

The sky crackles with ominous energy. It threatens to strike down at any minute. Fear wells up in the back of your throat. You look around, but you cannot see Edelgard. Is she in the dungeon still? She can’t be, before this you had already escaped together. Or did you escape together after this? Your thoughts are a jumbled mess. You run a hand through your hair, frustrated.

“Priestess?” you call out.

No answer. The light above you thunders.

The pact, you remember. You had made the pact with Edelgard, right at this very spot on this very night. You scramble to tear off your breastplate, fumbling with the buckles and straps that hold it in place. You take your chain mail off. You yank down your tunic.

The mark is there, the jagged scar running down your chest. It glows, a burning red light pulsing with the rapid beating of your heart.

The mark is there, yet the light above you still persists. The disaster should have been averted. The price had been paid.

The light strikes down.

Glowing, searing light, spreading out, blinding you.

You blink.

You’re standing in the “gym.” It’s familiar to you, something you have seen a multitude of times in your other dreams. It’s dark, moonlight pouring in through the windows.

A voice beside you gasps.

You look, to see yourself, only different. Byleth the Head Coach. “Ah!” she goes. She yanks down her shirt. A similar jagged mark upon her clavicle. “Same birthmark!”

Edelgard has always been very careful not to call you an idiot, but perhaps she should.

You say nothing to the other version of yourself. You look around. No sign of the Priestess or Head Coach Byleth’s Boss either. You relax slightly, deciding that it’s probably just an odd dream.

You move to sit on a couch, your armor clattering with every step. As you sit, you expect the seat to be soft, cushioned, but instead you plop onto a seat that feels as hard as stone. You adjust your position somewhat. This dream isn’t being nice to you.

Head Coach Byleth moves to sit across you. Her seat seems comfortable, the cushions sinking in with her weight. You frown.

“Is this another weird dream?” Head Coach Byleth asks.

“Aye,” you answer.

The other you seems content to just stare back at you, expression neutral. Is this how you look like to other people? It’s quite unnerving, you think. You try to come up with a good conversation topic. Fishing? You don’t recall seeing this alternate life fish. Fighting? You wouldn’t quite call the strange flailing people do in this facility “fighting,” strictly speaking.

“Ah,” you say. “Edelgard.”

“Edelgard?”

“Aye, Edelgard.”

“Yes. Edelgard,” says the other you, nodding solemnly.

Not quite the conversation you were aiming for. You scratch at the back of your head. Conversations are too difficult, you think. If only Edelgard were here to help you out. You think about the Priestess. Her snowy white hair. Her soft skin. Her arms wrapped tightly around you, as you make love to her on the bed in your shared cabin. _Ah,_ you think, _a conversation topic_.

“You,” you say, your voice stern. You cross your arms.

“Yes?” goes Head Coach Byleth.

“Why is it taking you so long to bed Boss Edelgard?”

Head Coach Byleth freezes, a wild blush spreading over her cheeks.

“I… _what?_ ” she gapes.

“You heard me,” you say, smugly, “what’s taking so long?”

“I don’t… I… _huh_?” Head Coach Byleth looks like she’s about to keel over and die of embarrassment.

“Oh,” you say, “you haven’t figured out how you feel yet.”

“I want to be… friends?” she says, clearly struggling with forming words.

“Hmm. Okay.”

You tilt your head, from one side to the other. You wonder how best to put to words the thoughts that are swirling in your head. Head Coach Byleth watches you, wide-eyed. You tap to your chest, point to hers.

“The pact we made cost us greatly,” you say.

“Pact?”

“Yes, a pact. Priestess Edelgard says that because of this decision, whether we like it or not, our paths are destined to cross with Edelgard’s. For all eternity.”

“I don’t understand,” says the other you.

“Sometimes I don’t think I understand either,” you admit. “Fate is cruel to her. She deserves more than what the world sees fit to give her.”

Head Coach Byleth nods. You’re unsure if that means she understands what you’re trying to express or she’s just acknowledging that you said words to her. You decide it shouldn’t really matter. As long as you push her in the right direction, the words you say are of little consequence. Maybe.

“It is our duty,” you say, nodding too.

“To… make this pact worthwhile?” she asks.

“Aye, that! Exactly that.”

You stare at one another, nodding at each other. This is growing too awkward. Usually, your dreams end at this point. For some reason, you haven’t awoken yet. You wonder if there’s some cruel entity out there that just enjoys prolonging your suffering. You stew in your awkward silence.

You decide to stand and say more words. You point at the other you.

“Take what you want, Head Coach Byleth Eisner. You’re lucky, what you want aligns with what you can do to make Edelgard’s life better.”

You don’t think the other you is fully grasping what you are implying, but you continue to speak anyway.

“If you have robbed her a chance to a soulmate of her choosing, the least you can do is make it worth her while.”

The blush on the other you’s cheeks deepens. “Bed her. Got it.”

Smug, and quite happy with how the conversation turned out, you turn away, to walk out the gym’s door. Standing at the doorway, you say one last thing, looking over your shoulder.

“I promise you this, Head Coach Byleth Eisner. It took me half the time to bed the Priestess than all of your current meandering about. Time may be an illusion, but I sure do tire of your utter lack of initiative.”

Content with your last say, you step out, past the gym’s premises. Instead of solid ground, your foot falls through, and you tumble forward into the darkness.

You wake up with a jolt.

The Priestess, nuzzled against you, mumbles. She blinks, her eyes heavy with sleep. Under the thick sheets bare skin is pressed against bare skin. You look down, at the woman’s bare form. A similar mark upon her chest.

“Bad dream?” she asks.

“Odd dream,” you answer.

“How odd?” says, yawning.

“I was able to talk to the other me.”

“Oh,” she says, suddenly more awake. “How did that go? I hope you didn’t say… anything _strange_ to your other life.”

You mull this over for a moment. “What constitutes as strange?”

In the darkness of your cabin, Edelgard shifts a little, looks up and squints at you. “By strange, I mean any talk of magic or whatever else is not present in her world. It may prove too confusing. As it is, our other lives are beginning to struggle with separating our lives from theirs the closer we get to the anniversary of the pact.”

“Of course,” you say, pretending you understand completely.

Edelgard playfully slaps you on the chest.

“Byleth, you said something odd, didn’t you?”

“That depends on how upset you could potentially be.”

She sighs, deeply. “Ah, whatever,” she says. “If it’s you, I’m sure it’ll somehow work out, Sir Knight.”

“Maybe you’re putting too much faith in me,” you say.

“Do you _want_ me to be upset at you?”

“No.”

“Then accept my faith in you,” says Edelgard, chuckling.

You press a soft kiss to her lips, which she returns. This woman is everything to you. You’ve long decided that you would do anything it took to ensure her happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely going to reply to the comments when I wake up! I'm so sorry! I haven't been ignoring them, I just got waaaaay too into this fic lol
> 
> (side note: since Sir Knight Byleth is from a medieval fantasy timeline, I crack up every time she refers to the "other" her as Head Coach Byleth bc that's p much the modern Byleth's title lol)


	10. Chapter 6: Battle at Blue Lion Barbell 1

Chapter 6: Battle at Blue Lion Barbell 1

(Byleth)

Byleth sits up in her bed, wide-eyed, hair sticking out in every direction. Her heart is _pounding_. She reaches up, balls the fabric of her shirt. She leans forward in her bed. Byleth Eisner is no stranger to having odd dreams. But that dream she just had? That was at least an odd dream and a half.

_What was that,_ she wonders, _what the fuck was that?_

Her alarm goes off —9:30 am.

Hands shaking, she reaches out, turns off the alarm. There are notifications for the chat log. A text from Edelgard. Seeing Edelgard’s name makes a wild warmth spread all over Byleth’s body. She can hear the taunting voice of her dream self. “ _Bed her… bed her… bed herrrr…”_ it seems to echo. Byleth shakes her head.

She stomps toward her shower. She examines her reflection, leaning close to the mirror over her bathroom sink. Her face was a deep shade of red she’s not used to seeing on herself. There was a wild look in her eyes that reminded Byleth of the way predators looked in nature documentaries. She rubs at her face vigorously. Tears off her clothes. Sets her shower to the coldest it could possibly go.

And takes the coldest shower she’s ever taken her whole life.

Her late dad gave her advice for things like this, she recalls. She does her best to conjure the memory of her father. Jeralt, a large, well-built man with the weirdest hairstyle and a scruffy beard. What girl advice had he sagely given his daughter before his passing a few years back? Byleth goes through her memories, cold, _cold_ water running down her face, arms, back.

“ _Hey kid, Rhea called with her panties all in a twist. Said you kissed a female classmate or whatever? Anyway, I think we’re banned from Sunday school.” Jeralt had laughed, heartily. He reached out to ruffle Byleth’s messy mop of blue hair._

“ _So you’re into girls, huh? Cool. Me too,” he said. Byleth had wrapped her tiny ten year old arms around him, crying._

Not quite that memory. Byleth digs deeper. Cold shower water pools at her feet, swirls around the drain.

“ _Aw shoot, what’s up, kid?” Jeralt asked, beer can in hand, as Byleth stormed into the living room and dissolved into a crying puddle on the ground._

“ _Girl_ _trouble_ _, huh?_ _Darn, I guess my pro tip about complimenting outfit_ _s_ _didn’t work,_ _” Jeralt later said as he tried to console his daughter. “Tell ya what. I know just what you need.”_

_Fifteen_ _year old Byleth looked up her dad, lines of clear snot dribbling down her nostrils. She wiped away at it with the back of her hand, smeared it on their ugly living room carpet. Jeralt pretended not to notice._

“ _Muscles, kid. You need muscles. Girls love muscles, I’m telling you. Let’s get you a gym membership, stat.”_

Wrong memory again. Byleth combs through more of her memories. She’s certain her dad must have told her something that she can use for her current “predicament.” The cold water on her skin is beginning to feel comfortable, somewhat.

“ _Hey priestess,” Byleth said, clad in her tunic and loose pants, standing ankle deep in the lake’s water. “Would you like to know what my father once taught me when it came to women?”_

_Edelgard stopped sketching from her spot under the tree, her wrist frozen in place. She looked at Byleth, confused._

“ _He said that if I was I having any ‘impure thoughts,’ I should swim in the coldest waters I could find and then have some liquor to calm the nerves.” Byleth proceeded to wade into the lake. “Jeeeeeez, that’s cold!” she exclaimed._

“ _I don’t understand,” Edelgard half-shouted as Byleth continued to go deeper into the lake, “are you… are you confessing to me that you’re having impure thoughts?”_

“ _Oh,” went Byleth. “can you pretend that you didn’t hear me?”_

“… _no,” Edelgard answered, brows furrowed. It took her a moment to continue speaking. “Are you seeing anyone right now? Like someone from the village? N-not to pry or anything… but I’d appreciate it if you told me these kinds of things.” Edelgard looked away, a flush spreading across her cheeks._

“ _Uh,” went Byleth, confused. “You are the only person here and I can see you. I don’t understand your question, priestess.”_

_Edelgard buried her face into her hands, groaning._

Now Byleth is just confused. She’s fairly certain that last one had to be a dream and not a memory. Either way, she seems to have her answer. Cold shower and alcohol. Yes, the solution to her current problems in life.

She steps out of the shower. Dries herself off quickly. She sets to picking out an outfit for the day. Lysithea had advised her to wear something nice. Byleth isn’t quite sure how showing off her muscles will help her make friends with Edelgard, but her dad did say that girls like muscles. She settles on a crisp, short-sleeved button down white shirt that was tight around her biceps, and a pair of dark, navy blue shorts. She settles on her favorite pair of slip-on loafers waiting by the doorway.

10:30 am, reads her phone’s clock by the time she was done scarfing down some breakfast and coffee. She decides to check her notifications later. She grabs her keys in the bowl by her door, steps out, and quickly sets off to Edelgard’s place.

She drives to the destination marked out on her phone’s map. She was just there the night before, but it still kind of amazes Byleth how things in the daytime can look so different than they do in the nighttime. The clock on her dashboard reads 10:50 am. Just on time. Byleth pulls out her phone to text. She realizes she hasn’t read the message that Edelgard had sent her. She brings it up.

Edelgard: Good morning Byleth! Just a quick text that the meeting got pushed an hour, so you you don’t need to rush. Actually, it really is your day off and I’d hate to impose, so you can just notify me about that.

“Ah, shoot,” goes Byleth. She taps at her phone.

Byleth: Sorry! Just read your text. Am already waiting outside your fancy condo lol no rush I can just browse ig or something.

Byleth’s about to close the messaging app when three dots immediately come up. They disappear. They come up again. And _oh_ , they’re gone again.

The phone in Byleth’s hand starts ringing. A call from Edelgard. Byleth picks up.

“Hello?”

“Ah. Hello, Byleth.” Edelgard’s voice rings out from the other line.

“Hello Edelgard.” Byleth grins, even though Edelgard can’t see it.

“Listen, I’m so, _so_ sorry to trouble you like this.”

“It’s really no biggie. I have nothing else to do anyway.”

“Are you… sure?”

“As absolutely positive as the last fifty times you asked, ma’am.”

A laugh. “Well then, I must insist that you at least wait in my condo.”

“Okay. Where do I park?”

“Right. I’ll inform the concierge, they’ll guide you down then help you up the lift.”

“I know how elevators work.”

Another laugh. “Sorry, I’m not insulting you, you just need a resident key card to operate the lift.”

“Oh,” goes Byleth. She whistles low. “Fancy.”

“Anyway, see you in a bit?”

“Sure.”

Byleth hangs up. She drives up to the entry gate of the condo’s premises. A security guard in a crisp uniform enthusiastically waves at her. Byleth opens the car’s window.

“Good morning, Miss Eisner! Miss Hresvelg has informed me that you are visiting.”

“Oooooh,” goes Byleth, who has never in her life been treated like this. She doesn’t know what else to say, honestly.

“Um, right,” goes the man, slightly confused. “The basement parking slots are just this way, Miss Eisner!”

Byleth follows the man’s instructions, parks in the slot with the number 01. At this point Byleth is beginning to realize that maybe Edelgard’s kind of important here. She kills her car’s engine, steps out and locks the doors. Although, looking around at all the fancier and shinier cars, she doubt that anyone would even try to steal her car even if she left the doors wide open with the keys in the ignition.

From near the basement’s elevator, a familiar security guard waves at her. “Miss Eisner! Right this way, please.”

She walks over to the man, and together they step into one of the elevators. The inside of the elevator reminds Byleth of the sci-fi spaceships she’s seen on television. The doors close smoothly, with an ever so faint _khaaaaaa, click_. Like what spaceship doors would sound like, Byleth thinks.

“What floor is Edelgard on?” asks Byleth, looking around the elevator. It even smells nice, like lavender lotion or something. The way fancy hotels smell, Byleth thinks.

“Oh,” goes the guard. “Miss Hresvelg lives in the penthouse.” He taps a card against a reader. Presses a button on the very top of the panel. The highest number reads 50. The button the guard had pressed just says “P.”

The elevator begins to ascend. Byleth could barely even tell that the thing was moving, the only real indicator being the rapidly increasing number on the elevator’s display.

“Oh shit,” says Byleth without thinking, “Edelgard doesn’t even get a number. She gets a fucking _letter_. Faaaaaancy.”

The guard stifles a chuckle by pretending he’s clearing his throat. “Ah, well, yes. She _is_ Miss Edelgard Hresvelg, after all.”

“What does that mean?”

“O-oh!” goes the guard, startled, “Well, Miss Eisner, Miss Hresvelg is the heir to Adrestia Corp., which her uncle is currently the president of.”

There are a million questions swirling around in Byleth’s head. She struggles to put any of them to words. It’s a lot to digest. Byleth knows Edelgard as just Miss Edelgard, boss at the gym. Miss Edelgard, with her iced coffees and smoke breaks and strong, calloused hands. Byleth had no idea that she lives this kind of life. A sudden thought pops into the foreground.

“Wait,” she says, “if she lives in this fancy castle, why would she go to the dingy-ass laundromat?”

“Excuse me?” asks the guard.

Before Byleth could clarify, the elevator arrives at floor “P,” steel doors sliding open with that same, faint airlock-like sound.

“Well anyway, here we are!” says the guard. He throws an arm over the door, gestures to Byleth to step out.

“What’s her unit number?”

The guard chuckles, “There’s only one unit on this floor, Miss Eisner.”

Byleth steps out into the brightly lit hallway. The tiles on the floor look like they cost an entire month’s salary.

“Have a great day, Miss Eisner!” says the guard. He takes a step back into the elevator. He bows slightly. The doors shut.

Byleth looks down the short hallway. There at the end is the fanciest door Byleth has ever seen. Maybe made out of something nice like mahogany, Byleth thinks. She walks up to the door, rubs it a little. She realizes that maybe she’s being a little weird. She presses the doorbell. The faint chime rings out inside.

After a few beats, Edelgard opens the door. “Byleth!” she says, “Good morning. I hope the staff treated you well?”

Byleth looks back to the elevator. “This feels like some kinda sci-fi castle.”

“A-anyway,” goes Edelgard, “please come in, make yourself at home.”

Byleth steps in. Edelgard’s condo unit looks like something straight out of a design catalog. Like something cut right out of a movie, one of those Netflix shows about young adults living it up in the big city or something. It’s spacious, and well decorated. Everything looks immaculate, barely like you could tell anyone was even living here.

“Faaaaaaaaaancy,” goes Byleth, she grins at Edelgard.

It’s only then that Byleth notices that Edelgard’s in a bathrobe, her still-damp hair slung over one shoulder. Byleth blushes. A faint voice echoes in the back of her head. _Bed herrrr_ , it says. Byleth shakes her head, willing the thoughts away.

Edelgard seems a little confused, but shrugs it off. “Have a seat,” she warmly offers. “It won’t take me too long to get ready.”

Byleth walks over to Edelgard’s black leather couch. She bets that one installment on one of these is an entire month’s salary. She sits down, very gently, on the edge of the seat.

“You can… relax,” goes Edelgard, chuckling slightly.

Byleth nods. She leans back slightly, very stiffly, until her back makes contact with the backrest of the couch.

“Right,” says Edelgard. “Be back shortly.”

Just like that, Byleth is left alone in Edelgard’s fancy condo. She feels incredibly out of place. Maybe if she breathes too hard she’ll accidentally break something and be in debt for the rest of her life. She decides to check her messages from the group chat.

_______

Hresvelg Helpdesk

Members: You, Lysithea, Caspar, and 3 others

Lysithea

OMG just you and the boss?

istg you better be in the nicest clothes u own right now

oh i kNOW U SHOULD DEF INVITE HER TO NETFLIX AND CHILL LATER

WINK WONK

BernieBear

wink wonk

Caspy

wink wonk

Petraaaa

What is wink wonk meaning again? I have forgotten

BernieBear

it’s just regular winking but like

pervier

lol

Petraaaa

I see

wink wonk

did I use it correctly?

BernieBear

close enough

Dr. Lindhardt

I see we have all forgotten the premise of this group chat entirely.

Caspy

wink wonk

Lysithea

also not to be creepy or anything but can you like take pics of Edelgard’s place

@Broleth

BernieBear

ew girl why do you want to make Byleth do creepy shit

Lysithea

gURL I WANT TO SEE WHAT ITS LIKE TO BE RICH OK

BernieBear

ok valid lmao

Caspy

wait you guys are going to blb??? I wanna come with!!!! their barbells are so nice

Petraaaa

I have been hearing that they are having all the specialty Rogue Barbells

I want to go as well

Lysithea

I dont understand. Its just barbells we have like twenty at the gym

BernieBear

@Lysithea dont even bother with them

barbell branding is apparently A Thing

@Caspy owns like five different shirts that just say Rogue

he would def offer his first-born child to them

Lysithea

wtf all barbells are the same arent they

Caspy

NO ROGUE BARBELLS ARE THE BEST WHAT ARE U SAYING

ARE U REALLY WORKING AT A GYM SMH

Petraaaa

ROGUE IS PRODUCING THE MOST SUPERIOR OF BARBELLS

BernieBear

wow rare all caps @Petraaaa

Lysithea

ok whatever jeez

Dr. Lindhardt

@Caspy you left your weird uncomfortable lifting shoes at my place, what should I do with them?

BTW they stink.

BernieBear

@Dr. Lindhardt burn them.

I can still smell the lingering stank they left behind at my place

Dr. Lindhardt

Copy.

Caspy

What???? NOOOO @Dr. Lindhardt THOSE ARE MY LEGACY LIFTERS

YOU CANT BURN THEM

THEYRE PRECIOUS

THE SMELL JUST MEANS GOOD JUJU FOR MY SQUATS

Dr. Lindhardt

Ew.

Also, “good juju” shouldn’t smell.

That’s just a sign of some kind of bacterial growth.

@Caspy I’m breaking up with you this is nasty.

Caspy

BUT BABE

Petraaaa

@Caspy I will be lending you my sneaker balls

You should be taking much better care of your equipment

Caspy

@Dr. Lindhardt and @BernieBear already take good care of my equipment tho

wink wonk

HAHAHA

Petraaaa

@Caspy I am not understanding

Does this mean you will not be needing my sneaker balls?

Dr Lindhardt

@Petraaaa no, @Caspy is just a nasty gremlin boy.

Please lend him the sneaker balls.

@BernieBear we should break up with him

BernieBear

agreed @Dr. Lindhardt lol

Caspy

BUT BABES

Lysithea

UGH ENOUGH OF @Caspy’S SHIT

@Broleth WE NEED UPDATES

DO YOU NEED REINFORCEMENTS AT BLB

Broleth

I’m a little nervous

Edelgard lives in a sci-fi castle

I saw Edelgard in a bathrobe

she’s very pretty

my dad said girls like muscles

hopefully Edelgard likes my muscles

it should be fine

will ask later if she’s interested in netflix and chill

I don’t have an account tho (only Hulu) so maybe I can borrow hers?

Lysithea

???????

GUYS @Broleth NEEDS OUR HELP

BernieBear

TRU

Caspy

definitely

Petraaaa

I am in agreement

Dr. Lindhardt

Yes

But don’t include me in this

I’m busy rn

BernieBear

Me too lol

its my day off today

Lysithea

too late lmao

were in @Caspy’s truck and otw to pick u up

BernieBear

WTF NOOOOO

also arent u guys supposed to be working rn

wont ferdinand narc on you guys like last time

Lysithea

its called a “lunch break” lmaooooooo

narcinand is busy showing hubert weird calisthenics videos

anw eta 15 mins

BernieBear

OMFG PLS TELL ME UR NOT SRS RIGHT NOW

I JUST WANTED TO CROSS ANIMALS TODAY

WTFFFFF

Lysithea

whatever bitch put on something decent

BernieBear

U GUYS SUCK

Lysithea

@Caspy says he loves you too

ew

cant believe he made me say that to u

_______

“Byleth,” says Edelgard. “Are you… taking pictures of my coffee table?”

Byleth jumps to her feet, startled. “Lysithea asked me to take pictures of rich people things.”

A series of emotions quickly cross Edelgard’s features. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m not… _whatever._ It doesn’t matter,” she says.

Edelgard is wearing a simple white blouse paired with a black pencil skirt. Her light brown hair is tied back into a loose ponytail. The flats she’s wearing are navy blue.

“Oh,” goes Byleth, pointing to Edelgard’s outfit and then to her own, “we match.”

“Ah, must be a coincidence,” says Edelgard, laughing nervously. She looks away, blushing.

Byleth grins. “It suits you,” she says. “You always look nice at work but I think you look extra nice today.”

Edelgard looks startled. The blush on her cheeks spread to the tips of her ears. She shakes her head slightly, smiling softly at Byleth. “The things you say sometimes, I swear.”

She takes a few steps toward Byleth. “You mind if I fix your collar a bit?” she asks. “It’s a bit crooked.”

“Go ahead.”

Edelgard reaches out, fixes Byleth’s shirt collar. Her hands work away, wrapping around to the back of Byleth’s neck. Byleth leans down slightly, making it easier for Edelgard to reach. From this distance, she could faintly smell the familiar smell of Edelgard’s detergent. Something else too. Perfume? Byleth isn’t sure.

As far as she knew, Edelgard doesn’t really fuss with things like that. At least, that’s what her friends in the chat group told her once. “In case you want to buy her gifts,” they had said. Byleth isn’t sure what that was supposed to mean. All she knows is that whether or not Edelgard is wearing perfume, she smells… kinda nice. Her heart begins to pound in her chest. She feels a little more jittery. She wonders briefly if she’s being creepy.

Edelgard hums a song. She straightens out the creases on Byleth’s shoulders. Without really thinking, Byleth places her hands on Edelgard’s waist. Edelgard doesn’t seem to notice either, absorbed in somehow ironing out Byleth’s shirt with her hands.

There’s a warmth in Byleth’s heart, sudden and all-encompassing. A wildfire, burning bright, flaring with her every breath. She can’t look away from Edelgard, away from the small smile on her lips, away from her lavender eyes. Byleth’s breath catches, stuck in her chest.

“There,” says Edelgard, “perfect.”

Edelgard’s hands settle on Byleth’s shoulders, her touch light, soft. She looks up, her smile widening. Byleth feels like she’s drowning a little. Like she’s being pulled into Edelgard’s eyes. Part of her wishes they could just stay like this forever. Stuck here in this moment. Nothing but the feeling of Edelgard’s hands on her frame. Nothing but lavender eyes looking into blue ones. Nothing but them and the feelings they can’t quite put words to, just yet.

“Edelgard,” says Byleth. She reaches up, clasps one of her hands over one of Edelgard’s. She drags it over to her the center of her chest, over her rapidly beating heart. “I need to admit that I’m not very good at feelings.”

“Wha —”

“Can you tell me? Why I’m feeling this way when I’m around you?”

Edelgard blushes a furious shade of red. She blinks several times. She pulls away. The loss of contact almost hurts, Byleth thinks. She’d much rather have Edelgard closer to her, she thinks.

“Ah. Uh. W-well,” Edelgard stammers. She looks around her condo, seemingly panicking. “Hungry.”

“Huh?”

“You’re uh… you’re just hungry.”

“Why does my heart hurt then?” Byleth looks at Edelgard, confused, head slightly tilted to the side.

“Just… _really_ hungry then.” The tips of Edelgard’s ears are an immensely deep shade of red. She reaches up to pinch them. “Do you like bagels? I have bagels.”

“Oh!” goes Byleth, all else immediately forgotten. “I like bagels.”

“Okay, good.”

Edelgard practically flies to her kitchen, producing a bag of bagels from a cabinet. She roughly chops each one, stuffs them into a toaster. Byleth watches, excited at the prospect of bagels.

“Do you want cream cheese on them or something?” says Edelgard from her kitchen.

“No need,” answers Byleth.

“… are you sure?”

“Yeah. Bagels are nice.”

Edelgard squints at Byleth for a second. Shakes her head. Shrugging, she digs around in another cabinet for a container and waits for the bread to finish toasting.

“Here,” says Edelgard, shoving a large tupperware filled with bagels into Byleth’s hands, “take this and you can eat on the way to Blue Lion.”

“I can’t eat and drive.”

“I’ll uh… I’ll drive.”

“Oh, okay then,” says Byleth, nodding. She hands Edelgard the keys to her car. Happily accepts the bagels. “Are you okay? You seem… on edge.”

“I’m… excited for the meeting.”

“Oh, okay,” says Byleth, already grabbing a bagel and biting into it.

Edelgard nods at the bagels. “Interesting,” she mumbles.

“Whaf whas dat?” goes Byleth, her mouth full.

“Nothing,” says Edelgard, chuckling. “Let’s go?”

“Omkay.”

The drive to Blue Lion Barbell is largely uneventful, much to Edelgard’s relief (although Byleth is completely unaware of this). Byleth balances the tupperware on her lap, feeds herself bagel after bagel. Edelgard seems completely focused on the task that is “driving,” her brows furrowed, her lips drawn into a tight line. There’s the barest hint of a blush on her pale cheeks. Byleth barely chews, barely stops shoving bread into her mouth to breathe.

They park in one of the gym’s guest parking lots. There are waist high bushes in front of the parking lot. Blue Lion Barbell is a CrossFit-style gym, through and through. It looks more like a blue warehouse, with large, steel doors swung open. On the top are the words “Blue Lion Barbell” painted in white, bold strokes.

They get out of the car. Edelgard walks over to Byleth’s side, hands her the car keys. “Please,” she says, “you don’t have to feel like you have to stick around. You can spend the rest of your day as you would like, you don’t have to fuss about me anymore.”

“Hey now, El,” comes another voice. Masculine. Deep. “That’s awful rude of you.”

A tall, blond-haired man stands before them. Next to him, a dark-skinned, taller man.

“Your girlfriend went through the effort to drive you all the way here,” says the blonde man. “The least you can do is show her around!”

“She’s not —” goes Edelgard.

“Girlfriend?” goes Byleth.

“Oh?” says the man. “Apologies. I must have been mistaken.” He offers a hand to Byleth. “I’m Dimitri, El’s brother. The man beside me is Dedue, my head coach.” Dedue nods at Byleth.

Byleth takes Dimitri’s hand. His grip is firm, solid. It reminds Byleth of how firmly Edelgard had shook her hand when they had first met.

“I’m Byleth Eisner, Miss Hresvelg’s head coach.” They let go.

“Byleth Eisner!” goes Dimitri, grinning. “You’re the coach I tried to hire before my little sister managed to snatch you up first.”

“Dimi,” goes Edelgard. She slaps Dimitri’s shoulder. Hard. The man barely flinches. “Stop it. You’re embarrassing me.”

Dimitri laughs. “Careful you don’t catch her anger,” he says. “All the energy she could have used to grow taller went into her muscles instead.”

“ _Dimi!_ ” Edelgard growls. She hits him again.

“You’ll get used to it though. I can barely feel it now. Like a soft, gentle breeze upon my delts.” Dimitri grins at Edelgard.

“Soft, gentle breeze _this_!” she shouts, as she kicks her brother’s shin.

“ _Ack!”_ goes Dimitri, flinching.

“Hey, what’s going on out there?” shouts out another voice. Three people emerge from the gym. A blonde woman, a man with wild red hair, and a man with long black hair tied into a ponytail.

“Ah!” goes the man with the black hair. “That’s Byleth Eisner!”

“Byleth Eisner?!” shouts the blond woman. “ _The_ Byleth Eisner? The woman who attended a regional powerlifting meet a few years ago, racked up all the records, then vanished?”

“Yeah, dude.”

“Wow,” goes the red-haired man, “why did you have to say it like some kinda rushed exposition or some shit?”

“Shut the fuck up Sylvain,” goes the black-haired man. “You just don’t know shit.”

“Ah,” goes Dimitri, grinning apologetically. “These are my coaches. The angry one with the black hair is Felix. The blonde woman is Ingrid. The red-haired one is Sylvain.”

Byleth nods. “I’m Byleth,” she says, unsure of what else to say.

“ _We know_ ,” says Felix. “Now that you’re here, looks like a good time as any to challenge you to a lift-off.”

“Hey,” interjects Edelgard. “It’s Byleth’s day off. Please don’t hassle her.”

“I wasn’t talking to _you_ , with all due respect,” says Felix.

Edelgard looks like she’s about to punch the man.

“Sorry,” says Dimitri. “We’re… working on it. He gets… weirdly passionate.”

“So?” says Felix, apparently unbothered. “What’s it going to be?”

Byleth shrugs. “Sure,” she says. “I’ve got time.”

From the bushes behind the group, Caspar suddenly jumps up. “ _WOO!_ ” he bellows, _“A LIFT-OFF!_ ”

Everyone turns to face him. Realization seems to dawn on him. “Ah, shit,” he goes.

Beside Caspar, Petra stands up. “A lift-off!” she shouts. She high-fives Caspar. The phone in Byleth’s pocket begins to vibrate like crazy. She pulls out her phone to check.

_______

Hresvelg Helpdesk

Members: You, Lysithea, Caspar, and 3 others

Lysithea

OH MY FUCKING GOD THESE TWO IDIOTS

WTF ARE WE GOING TO DO

BernieBear

WE STAY HIDDEN THATS WHAT

I COULD HAVE BEEN SPENDING A RELAXING DAY TODAY

BUT NOOOOO

IM HIDING BEHIND FUCKING BUSHES

_______

“These are… coaches from Black Eagle,” says Edelgard, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What the fuck?” goes Sylvain.

“I… see,” says Dimitri, confused. “Nice to meet you two?”

“Hey Lysithea,” says Caspar, clearly talking to someone else behind the bushes, “now you’ll get to check out their awesome Rogue Barbells!”

“Yes! The barbells are being great,” chimes in Petra.

“They’re apparently joined by Lysithea, one of my administrative assistants,” says Edelgard. She sighs.

From behind the bushes, Lysithea slowly stands up.

“Hey, y’all,” she says, sheepishly.

The phone in Byleth’s hand vibrates some more.

_______

Hresvelg Helpdesk

Members: You, Lysithea, Caspar, and 3 others

BernieBear

AAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAA

OH GOD KEEP IT TOGETHER BERNS

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

OH GOD

AAAAAAAAAA

_______

Byleth shoves her phone into her pocket. It continues to vibrate.

“The Black Eagle people are fucking weird dude,” goes Sylvain, laughing.

“Let’s not be rude to our guests,” says Dimitri. “Come now, I’ll show you all around before my meeting with El.”

The group starts walking in the large warehouse. From the corner of her eye, she catches Caspar sneaking a peek at his phone.

“Ah!” he goes, running back to the bushes.

The group stops. Watching as Caspar dives behind the bushes. Clearly wrestles something.

Byleth peeks at her phone too.

_______

Hresvelg Helpdesk

Members: You, Lysithea, Caspar, and 3 others

BernieBear

YOU ALL FUCKING SUCK

I’M CRAWLING HOME

@Caspy I’M BREAKING UP WITH YOU

_______

Caspar retrieves Bernadetta from behind the bushes, scooping her up and throwing her over his shoulder like a fireman. The girl struggles, screeching. Like a wild animal, she thrashes about, unable to escape Caspar’s grip as he laughs heartily. After a short struggle, she stops, going limp.

Caspar marches back to the group, triumphant. Bernadetta, still slung over Caspar’s shoulder, isn’t moving. A prey animal, accepting its fate.

“That will be Bernadetta, another admin assistant,” says Edelgard. There’s a distant look to her eyes, like they’re almost glazed over.

“Oh my fucking god,” goes Sylvain, “is there a secret portal to Black Eagle over there or something?”

Dimitri blinks, somehow unable to comprehend everything happening too. “Okay,” he says.

The group finally walk into the facility itself. There are large industrial fans throughout, blasting at full power. The gym is more like a wide, open space, with racks to one side and rowers and air bikes to the other. The familiar smell of stale sweat and rust permeates the air. The flooring looks caked with layers upon layers of lifting chalk. There’s a cacophony of sound, of the hissing of rowing machines, the clatter of weights against the ground, the impact of bumper plates thrown down.

On one wall, an assortment of barbells. Caspar and Petra run over to them, stars in their eyes. Byleth can’t help but feel in awe too.

They have _all_ kinds of barbells, from power bars, Olympic bars, and training bars, all the way to the specialty types like safety squat bars and buffalo bars. Some are hung on the walls like trophies. Some are stored upright in barbell racks. Others, presumably the gym’s beater bars, are strewn about the floor.

“Ah yes,” goes Dimitri, “the pride and joy of Blue Lion. Our esteemed collection of iron.”

The Black Eagles start running their hands over the knurling on the barbells. Even Bernadetta, propping herself up from her awkward position on Caspar’s shoulder. Caspar remembers to put her down.

“See that knurling?” says Caspar, “Shit’s just so good, you know.”

“Even I can’t deny that this feels pretty cool,” says Lysithea.

Edelgard scoffs. “Oh yeah? How about I grab a few Eleikos, let’s see what you say about that then.”

“Damn El,” says Dimitri, “no need to be all competitive.”

“Eleikos?!” shouts Caspar.

“Eleikos! The finest in competitive quality!” shouts Petra.

“I was joking,” says Edelgard.

“That’s a horrible thing to joke about,” says Byleth. “You’re leading us on here.”

“S-sorry,” says Edelgard.

Petra suddenly steps forward. There’s a serious look in her eyes.

“Miss Edelgard,” she says, her voice booming. “There is actually something I have been feeling like I need to do for a while now.”

“Yes? What is it Petra?”

Petra takes a deep breath. Steels herself. She squares her shoulders. Points at her boss.

“I am challenging you to a lift-off!” she shouts, her voice echoing throughout the gym. People stop to gawk at the group.

“Now we’re talking,” goes Felix.

“A… Petra?” says Edelgard, caught off guard.

“A lift-off! Right here, right now. I will be proving to you my strength!” Petra crosses her arms, smirking. “Unless you are being afraid that I will be beating you in front of Byleth?”

“ _Woooooooooooo!_ ” goes Caspar.

“ _Wooooooooooooo!_ ” joins Lysithea.

Suddenly, and without warning, Dimitri tears off his shirt, throws it on the ground. The group gapes at him.

“ _LET THE LIFT-OFF BEGIN!_ ” he bellows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decided to cut the chapter into two lol so I can finally get an update out hahaha
> 
> Plus, it should help with the pacing.
> 
> It just hit me that I'm like, ten chapters in before the characters in my GYM AU do any GYM THINGS (oops?)
> 
> Anyway, the lift-off will be next!


	11. Chapter 7: Battle at Blue Lion Barbell 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, this chap might have a bit of jargon. I did my best to make it accessible in a way that still made sense for the story, but yeah. Hope it's okay!

Chapter 7: Battle at Blue Lion Barbell 2

(Byleth)

Byleth and Edelgard step out of the changing rooms, each wearing Blue Lion gym wear that Dimitri had excitedly given the two. He had run into the stockroom, coming out with an assortment for them to choose from. They had settled on sports bras, blue t-shirts, and black leggings. Each item was emblazoned with the Blue Lion logo.

“This kinda feels like I’m a traitor right now,” says Byleth, looking down at her blue and black outfit.

“Hmm,” goes Edelgard, “it’s alarming how well it suits you, actually.”

Byleth beams at the comment. “Thanks Edelgard, I think you look great too. Although red is more your color.”

Edelgard looks away. Clears her throat. “Yes, well. Let’s go back to the others, shall we?”

The others sit around Dimitri in a semi circle. He still hasn’t put his shirt back on. Caspar seems about ready to explode with excitement. Bernadetta hugs her knees to her chest, looking absolutely miserable. Lysithea and Petra are conversing in hushed tones, with Petra nodding along resolutely. Dedue sits the farthest out, looking far into the distance. Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix chatter with Dimitri. Spotting Byleth and Edelgard’s approach, Dimitri waves enthusiastically at them. They take a seat among the others.

“El,” goes Dimitri, “as the challenged party, you get to choose the name of the game.”

Edelgard shakes her head. “Petra can choose whatever lift she wants.”

Petra frowns, looks at Edelgard with her brows furrowed. “I am not liking that you are pitying me.”

“I-it’s not that I’m pitying —”

“I have no need for such a handicap. You should be doing the choosing.” Petra rises to her feet. There’s a sternness to her features that Byleth has never seen before. “Dorothea is telling me that you have a strength in deadlifts, perhaps you would like to choose that?”

From her position on the floor, Edelgard looks startled. She stands too. “Petra, have I done something to upset you? If that’s the case maybe we —”

“No, Miss Hresvelg,” says Petra. There’s an edge to her voice. An anger she’s barely holding back. “ _You_ haven’t done anything to slight me. This is for me.”

From the corner of Byleth’s eye, she sees Sylvain pull out his phone from his pocket. He holds it up, recording the two. “ _Drama_ _with_ _the Black Eagle_ _s_ _eyyyyyy!”_

Ingrid slaps the phone out of his hand. “Sylvain, don’t be a fucking dick right now, _please_.”

“Well the thirteen year old’s been taking vids!” half-whispers, half-shouts back.

“ _I’m fucking twenty three dicklord_ ,” hisses Lysithea, still recording Petra.

“ _Shhhhhhh_ ,” goes Felix. “ _So rude, I fucking swear._ ”

The three stay silent, gaping at Felix. Sylvain rolls his eyes. Ingrid confiscates Sylvain’s phone. Lysithea keeps recording.

“Very well, Miss Macneary,” says Edelgard. She looks back with sternness, her voice dripping with authority. “Deadlifts. One rep max. Standard rules apply, no dropping the bar, no hitching, full lock out. As many attempts as you need.”

“I am agreeing to these terms,” answers Petra.

“And there we have it!” shouts Dimitri. “Deadlift battle, the rules of which El has clearly stated.” Dimitri grins, puts his hands on his hips. “Of course, anyone can go for a deadlift whenever they want. The competition is just between Edelgard and Petra though. Are there any questions?”

Sylvain raises his hand.

“Yes, Sylvain?”

“Sir, why are you so sweaty? You were just standing there without a shirt on.”

“ _Sylvain_ ,” scolds Ingrid. “You know he just gets sweaty when he’s excited.”

“Ew,” goes Sylvain, “said like a true straight girl.”

Ingrid punches him on the shoulder.

“Any _other_ questions?” asks Dimitri, frowning.

“When are we going back to work? There’s so much to do,” goes Dedue, under his breath. Dimitri doesn’t hear it.

“Okay! With that, let’s get warming up!” cheers Dimitri.

The group cheers back. Dedue sighs.

They break up into smaller clusters. The Blue Lion coaches prepare the competition area, setting a bar down and gathering up the plates they might need. The Black Eagles surround Petra, talking with her as she starts to warm up. Edelgard warms up alone in another corner. Byleth approaches to join her.

“Aren’t you going to join your coworkers and assist Petra?” says Edelgard. There’s no warmth to her voice, nothing like how she’d been talking to Byleth all morning. Edelgard is looking away, a coldness in her eyes. She goes through her warm up, mechanical, methodical. Byleth’s insides churn at the sight. She decides she doesn’t like this.

“You’re my coworker too,” says Byleth simply.

“The others may not appreciate the side you’re taking here,” Edelgard quickly answers back. The sharpness to her tone feels cutting.

“Cut that out,” says Byleth.

“Cut what out?”

“This. Don’t make me feel like I’m taking a side,” answers Byleth. An uncomfortable feeling rises from the pit of her gut, icy, angry. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

“So you’re here out of pity?”

“No, I just want you to stop isolating yourself.”

“Sure,” says Edelgard. She continues to warm up in silence.

Byleth’s had enough. She reaches out, places a firm hand on Edelgard’s shoulder.

“El,” she says. The name slips past her lips before she can stop herself. She continues on. “El. Petra’s going through something right now, it really doesn’t have anything to do with you. Please, let’s join the others.”

Edelgard’s eyes go wide. She freezes, mid stretch of her hamstrings. “D-did you just…?”

“Let’s join the others,” Byleth repeats. She worries that maybe she shouldn’t have called her boss “El,” but decides that she’ll deal with that issue later. Preferably never, actually.

“I… sorry,” says Edelgard, turning to look at Byleth. Her gaze softens, her stance relaxes slightly. “I was taking it to heart.”

“It’s okay,” says Byleth. The ice in the pit of her stomach melts away. She grins at Edelgard. “Let’s go?”

Edelgard nods back, shyly.

“For the record though,” says Byleth, “if I _had_ to choose a side, I would choose yours.”

Edelgard smiles back. “Thank you, _By_ , that means more to me than you know.”

_By._ Edelgard had called her “By.” She doesn’t know what to say back, doesn’t know what that had meant. All she knows is that being called that made her feel warm, _good_. There was also a twinge of familiarity that Byleth could not place. Edelgard grins at Byleth playfully.

“Shall we then?” she asks.

It’s Byleth’s turn to shyly nod back.

They join the others, in a group warm up lead by Caspar.

“Hey!” goes Caspar, “We’re about ready to start warming up with the bar, how about you guys?”

“We?” asks Edelgard.

“Well, yeah,” answers Caspar, “we’re all gonna do a bit of lifting.”

Edelgard looks at Lysithea and Bernadetta. Lysithea seems excited. Bernadetta looks like she wants to lie down.

“Edelgard,” says Petra, smirking, “you may be my friend, but I will not be taking it easy on you.”

Edelgard raises an eyebrow, smirks too. “Well then, do your best to beat me.”

They make their way to the platform. The Blue Lion coaches are already warming up. Ingrid finishes off an easy warm up set of six with sixty kilos on the bar. They slide on another pair of twenties on each side. One hundred kilos on the bar.

“Heya guys,” says Sylvain. “Warm up time, going for the bar first or what?”

“Lysithea and Bernadetta aren’t really competitive lifters,” says Caspar, “so let’s start with the bar for them.”

“I’ll start with sixty,” says Byleth.

“Me as well,” says Edelgard.

“I would be liking to start with forty first,” says Petra.

“Gotcha,” says Sylvain. He turns to the platform, where Felix is just finishing up with his set. “Hey load the bar to forty, let Petra take a warm up.”

“Sure,” says Felix. He props up the bar using a deadlift jack. Ingrid and Felix each take an end of the barbell, and skillfully and quickly unload and reload the bar. They slide on a pair of green plates on each side. Forty kilos.

“Bar is loaded,” says Felix, lazily. Petra steps up, breezes through her warm up set.

“Now for you two,” says Sylvain to Lysithea and Bernadetta, “take this extra bar.” He sets a bar at their feet.

“Okay Bernie, like I taught you before,” says Caspar.

Bernadetta whines through the entire set, but completes it relatively easily. She sets the bar down. Whimpers a little more.

“Nice!” goes Caspar. “How you feeling there, Bernie babes? Not liking it? You really wanna go home?”

Bernadetta nods. “Sorry,” she whispers. “Just… too many people.”

“Aw, don’t be sorry!” says Caspar. He fishes his car keys out of his pocket, hands them to her. “Take the truck, go on home babes. I’ll call you when we’re done here and you can pick us up, that okay with you?”

Bernadetta takes the keys gratefully. She looks like she’s on the verge of crying. She opens her mouth to speak but her eyes are watering.

“ _Awwww_ ,” goes Caspar, “okay, let’s go, I’ll take you to the car.” He speaks softly, kindly. They walk out.

“Well ain’t that fucking sweet,” says Sylvain.

“I can’t believe they just did that in front of our faces,” says Lysithea.

Byleth shrugs. “It’s nice that they understand each other.”

“Anyway, deadlifts, yeah?” says Sylvain. He points at the barbell. “You gotta get your warm up in. You know how?”

“A little,” answers Lysithea. “Byleth taught me once.”

Lysithea wraps her hands around the bar’s knurling, at about her shoulder width apart. She brings the bar close to her shins, her back neutral. She pulls up, pushing down with her legs, her back straight throughout the lift. She pushes her hips through, standing tall with the bar in her hands. One rep. She’s sweating profusely already. She sets the bar down again. It clatters.

“Hmm,” hums Sylvain, “form’s good, but the competition bar’s a bit too heavy. It is twenty kilos, just the bar. Lemme grab you one of the seven kilo training bars.”

“Don’t patronize me,” says Lysithea. She huffs, her cheeks red, sweat gathering on her brow.

Sylvain holds both hands up. “Hey now, I’m not being patronizing at all. Fitness is a journey, not a race.”

“O-oh,” goes Lysithea. “Sorry. I thought you were gonna be a dick about it.”

“No biggie,” says Sylvain. “Hey, you’re twenty three, right?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“Cool.” Sylvain winks. “So you, uh, you single?”

“Okay, gross, I take it back,” says Lysithea, nose crinkling. “You _are_ going to be a dick about it.” She stomps away.

Sylvain turns to Byleth. “Well, that sucks, huh?”

“I guess?” says Byleth. What else is she supposed to say?

“So uh,” says Sylvain. “How about you? Are _you_ single?”

“Please don’t.”

“Ugh, _fine_. Can’t win today. But uh, call me when you change your mind?” He winks at Byleth.

“No thank you.”

“Okay,” he says. Turns to walk back toward Ingrid. From the other side of the platform she mouths “Sorry.”

The rest of warm ups go on rather uneventfully. Things only start to get interesting when the numbers on the bar start going up.

A summary of some of the lifters, as follows:

\- Felix does relatively fine, pulling sumo with hookgrip. He manages to lift an easy 220 kilos when he tears a callous on his thumb and decides to sit the rest of the lift-off out. He glares angrily at the others, sitting on a tall box at the gym’s corner. Byleth is reminded of a cat.

\- Sylvain does horribly. He jumps into an 180 kilo lift while not warmed up enough. He goes to pull sumo as well, tugging at the bar. His face suddenly contorts and he falls backwards, his hands on his junk. “Ohh god,” he says, “my fucking groin, _I think I pulled my fucking groin.”_

Ingrid, saint that she is, approaches to help. “ _Ingrid_ ,” moans Sylvain, _“massage my junk._ ” She slaps him and leaves him to his misery. Lysithea takes a video of the man’s suffering. It’s only after about ten minutes of hell when Dedue hands Sylvain an ice pack.

\- Caspar does relatively well. He makes it up to 250 when he decides to call it quits. He says, apologetically, “I had a bit of a tiring night last night, I’m a bit gassed today.” He chuckles, blushing a little. Sylvain, from his place of sadness on the ground, realizes what Caspar had been up to. Ice pack firmly held against his nuts, he whines. Caspar isn’t sure he understands what’s going on. “Cheer up buddy, next time you’ll warm up good and hit _three hundo_ , easy!” he says. Sylvain sobs in response.

\- Ingid hits a conservative 160 before she stops. “I don’t want to go too off program,” she says. “Aw come on,” goads Caspar, “staying on program is _lame_.” Ingrid laughs a little, says, “Well I guess I am lame then.” Caspar makes a weird face at her. “You remind me of a hall monitor,” he says. Ingrid feels too awkward to say anything back so she stays quiet.

\- Dimitri does incredibly well. Taking his shirt off seems to fill him with a kind of feral energy Byleth has only ever seen on the competitive platform. He makes each pull seem like they had forgotten to add the weight to the bar. Weights fly up. They come clattering down. He hits an easy 300 kilos before Dedue and Felix force him to stop. Felix actually pulls out a water bottle and sprays the blonde man in the face until he finally relents. (They also force him into a shirt.)

“230 kilos for Byleth Eisner. The bar is loaded!” shouts Dedue. His voice is deep and loud.

Byleth steps up to the bar. She looks over the faces that stare at her in anticipation. It looks like there are actual stars in Caspar’s eyes. Lysithea holds up her phone to take a video. Felix continues to sulk in the corner. Sylvain is curled into a ball. Petra looks like she’s studying every second of the moment unfurling before her. Dedue stands behind Byleth, ready to step in should anything go wrong. Ingrid watches quietly, but she’s just as hyped as Caspar.

Byleth doesn’t think that the weight she’s about to lift is spectacular by any measure. Weight is weight. If anything, this is her realm. The world she understands completely. The language of muscle, sinew, bone. The poetry of the human body battling against gravity and prevailing. The art of lifting heavy objects.

Faces look on, a mixture of concern, excitement. She sees Edelgard staring at her, wide-eyed, a hand over her chest. Byleth briefly wonders if Edelgard is worried. She shouldn’t be, this is Byleth’s domain. She shouldn’t be, so she winks at Edelgard to get her to calm down. Edelgard blushes profusely.

“You ready?” asks Dimitri, seated on a plyometric box in front of the platform.

Byleth nods.

“Alright, just lift when you’re ready,” says Dimitri. He holds his hand up, ready to give the “down” signal when Byleth completes the lift.

“ _Allow me to demonstrate_ _!_ ” bellows Byleth. Her voice echoes in the gym.

She inhales, exhales. Focuses her mind. Focuses on her muscles. Hamstrings. Glutes. Lats. Rhomboids. Traps. Erectors. She feels the muscles under her skin, taut, ready. She stands shoulder width apart, conventional pulling stance, the bar against her shins. She tightens the leather lifting belt she had borrowed from Ingrid.

Byleth reaches down, wraps her calloused hands around the rough knurling of the barbell. Cold metal pressed against warm skin. She takes a deep breath. Braces her abs. Braces every inch of muscle on her body. She pulls herself into position.

The crowd is quiet, seemingly holding their breath with her.

She pulls, the slack on the bar strains against the weight at either end. It begins to rise, slowly, but steadily. Her arms hold on, her legs push, her back strains against the weight. A perfect machine, built exactly for this purpose. The bar goes past her shins. Past her knees. Byleth pushes her hips through, pushes her chest out. Her knees lock out.

She holds the bar, tall, proud. All of 230 kilos conquered like child’s play.

“ _Woo!_ ” goes Byleth, grinning wildly.

“Down!” shouts Dimitri, lowering his hand with a quick, cutting motion.

Byleth lets gravity resume control of the weight. Her hands still wrapped around the iron, she lets the bar fall to the platform. The ground trembles. The sound of metal plates clattering against each other echoes.

“Good lift!” shouts Dimitri.

The entire gym erupts into cheers.

“Holy shit!” cheers Dimitri, “If you can lift 230 on the fly, you can definitely conquer the international competitive scene without breaking a sweat!”

Byleth chuckles, trying to catch her breath. She steps back, takes the leather belt off. “Nah,” she says, huffing, “not for me.”

Dimitri laughs. “I’ve only met you, but somehow that sounds like something only you would say.”

Byleth hands the belt to Petra.

“I am being in awe of you, as always,” says Petra.

“It’s no biggie,” says Byleth.

“But it is being quite the… biggie!” says Petra.

Byleth laughs. “Go kill the weight, tiger!”

Petra grins. “Yes, like a mighty huntress I shall be killing the weight upon the platform.”

Byleth stands next to Edelgard in the crowd. Edelgard stares wide-eyed at Byleth.

“That was… incredible,” Edelgard manages.

“It would be more incredible if you win the lift-off,” says Byleth.

“Please,” goes Edelgard, “don’t diminish your accomplishments for my sake.”

“Really though,” answers Byleth. She stretches her shoulders, her low back. She’s beginning to feel the soreness settling on her muscles. “I think it would make me happy if you could win.”

Maybe she’s picking favorites, thinks Byleth, but Edelgard’s been so busy and so hard on herself. She needs the win.

“Actually,” adds Byleth, “how about you win this, for me?”

The tips of Edelgard’s ears go red. Byleth is beginning to get used to the sight. Edelgard looks like she’s about to say something, but Dedue shouts out loud.

“175 kilos for Petra Macneary. The bar is loaded!” shouts Dedue. Petra steps up to the platform.

From his position in front of the platform, Dimitri raises his hand again.

Byleth nudges Edelgard gently. “You think you can beat that?” she asks. “Your last lift was 170. The jumps between weights are getting smaller.”

“I can usually hit 180 for a heavy single even on a bad day,” mulls Edelgard. “I think Petra has more stamina than me. If we keep doing small jumps I’ll probably lose to fatigue.”

“Good call. As your head coach, I’d advise you to take a large jump for the next one,” says Byleth. “I’d say you got one more big lift in you before your hamstrings get too tired. It’s that, or your low back.”

“How would you —”

“Don’t think you’re the only one watching when we train,” says Byleth, grinning. She thinks it’s hard not to notice that Edelgard trains at the same time as her. In some way, Byleth feels like Edelgard’s watching her the same way an emperor would watch their military strategist. Or something like that. Byleth doesn’t dwell on it too much. All she knows is that on a technical level, Byleth likes to believe that she knows Edelgard’s training style better than anyone.

Edelgard gapes at Byleth, a faint blush forming on her cheeks. Byleth nudges her again. “Look,” she says, “Petra’s about to lift. Watch carefully. If the weight moves fast, your best bet is to make a jump she can’t beat.”

On the platform, Petra gets into position. She eases into a wide sumo stance, tightens the leather lifting belt another notch. Petra exhales, sharply. Inhales deeply. She reaches down to the bar, wraps her hands tight around the iron. She pulls herself into position, her face focused. Lysithea is busy taking a 360 degree video of the woman. Petra doesn’t even seem to notice. She’s calm, the face of a huntress before she takes the shot.

Petra pulls. The bar bends slightly. Her form is stable, muscles flexed. The bar steadily rises. The weights go up without slowing down. Petra pushes her hips through, her shoulders rolled back. She locks out her knees. Full lift.

“Down!” shouts Dimitri, his arm slicing downward.

With her hands still wrapped securely around the knurling, Petra lets the weight fall to the platform. She lets go, steps back. Takes a few, deep breaths.

“Good lift!” says Dimitri, giving her a thumbs up.

The group cheers. Lysithea runs up to Petra, phone still in her hands.

“How does it feel to be so fucking strong?” Lysithea asks, shoving the camera too close to Petra’s face.

Petra tries to wave away Lysithea’s phone. “Tiring,” she says, huffing.

“Alright, what’s the next gonna be, El?” asks Dimitri. Ingrid and Dedue stand at the ready, prepared to load the bar.

Edelgard looks to Byleth. Byleth grins. Edelgard grins back.

“Load it up to 200,” Edelgard says, voice firm. Byleth could swear she sees the barest hint of a smirk on the corner of her lips.

Dimitri whistles low. “Not going down without a fight, huh? Well, you heard her, next weight, 200!”

Ingrid and Dedue get to work. On each side of the bar, they load three red plates and one yellow plate. 200 kilos.

Byleth grabs Edelgard by the shoulders, massaging her delts slightly. “Now we’re talking,” she says excitedly. “Just do what you always do.” Byleth’s voice is an almost whisper, her eyes locked on the weight on the platform but her head tilted toward Edelgard. “Just lift that weight.”

Byleth turns her head to look at Edelgard. There’s something familiar simmering in the woman’s lavender eyes. Passion. Determination. A fire burning at the pit of the stomach, ready to be set loose. It makes the hairs on the back of Byleth’s neck stand on end. Edelgard says nothing. Looks deep into Byleth’s blue eyes with a quiet, powerful gaze. She nods.

“Alright!” goes Byleth, clapping Edelgard on the back.

Edelgard rolls her shoulders, her wrists, her neck. There’s a coolness to her that commands attention. She stands before the battlefield, ready to strike. Petra approaches, hands Edelgard the lifting belt.

“I see that you are not taking it easy on me either,” says Petra.

“They don’t call me Emperor Edelgard for nothing, you know.” Edelgard smirks.

Petra chuckles. “Well then,” she says, “go conquer that weight, your majesty.”

Byleth watches on quietly as Edelgard steps up to the bar. Dimitri says something to her, softly enough so that only Edelgard hears it. He seems to turn his head slightly, and look at Byleth from the corner of his eye. He chuckles. Edelgard blushes, also looking at Byleth. Edelgard shakes her head, gets her focus back. Byleth wonders what they could have been talking about.

“Whenever you’re ready,” says Dimitri, louder this time.

Edelgard gets into position. A narrower sumo stance, almost like a hybrid stance. Byleth hums to herself. The stance is perfect for Edelgard’s proportions, she thinks. It makes use of Edelgard’s strong back and shortens the range of motion necessary to complete the lift.

Edelgard tightens the belt. Reaches down and holds the barbell. She inhales deeply and pulls, jerking on the bar. _Ah_ , thinks Byleth, _she rushed it._

Shakily, the weight rises. Byleth could tell that this was a maximum effort lift on Edelgard’s part. Muscles begin to shake, form begins to break down.

“ _PULL!_ ” roars Byleth.

Her voice reverberates, loud and compelling. The rest of the group begins to cheer as well. The weight begins to climb, slowly, but surely. It rises past her shins. Starts to stall as it reaches her knees.

Edelgard groans, Byleth could see her hands almost losing grip of the bar. It’s slipping, slowly, slowly. Edelgard continues to struggle against the weight.

“ _COME ON EL, PULL!_ ” roars Byleth once more.

Something seems to flash in Edelgard’s eyes. A burst of energy. A burst of power.

Edelgard pushes her hips through. Locks out her knees, stands straight. The bar is in her hands still, just barely so, but she holds on. She roars. The voice of an Emperor, victorious.

“Down!” shouts Dimitri, cutting through the air with his arm.

And the weights come clattering down, with Edelgard still managing to hold on. She falls to her knees, gasping for air. Ingrid and Dedue help her out of the belt, help her up. She shakes the dizziness away, laughing.

“Good lift!” says Dimitri, rushing in to wrap his arms around his sister. He twirls her around.

The group cheers, all approaching and forming a giant hug ball. Byleth joins too, laughing and cheering.

“Alright, alright!” says Edelgard. “Put me down Dimi!” She laughs, heartily.

Dimitri sets her down, and the group gives her some space so she can catch her breath.

Petra roars with laughter. “I am conceding,” she says. “It is your win, Miss Edelgard.” She reaches out to shake Edelgard’s hand.

Edelgard takes it. They shake on it. “Make no mistake Petra, you are immensely strong. It’s an honor to be challenged by you.” After a beat, she adds, “And please, just call me Edelgard.”

“Alright then, Edelgard,” says Petra, grinning.

The group erupts into more cheers. Even the other gym goers stop their workouts to clap at the display.

At Byleth’s periphery, she notices Dimitri step back from the group.He beckons for Byleth to approach. She walks toward the man. He grins at her.

“So,” he says, “El seems to have really taken a shine to you, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

Dimitri tilts his head toward the group, toward their smiles and their laughter, toward Edelgard, smiling from practically ear to ear.

“I rarely ever get to see her like that, you know.” He looks at the group, a wistful smile on his lips. “El has a bit of a hard time warming up to people.”

Byleth looks towards the group too. Caspar chest bumps Lysithea. She practically bounces off. Caspar moves to chest bump Edelgard. She glares at him. He hides behind Petra. The group laughs. Dimitri laughs at the sight as well.

“What does this have to do with me though?” asks Byleth.

“It has everything to do with you,” says Dimitri, turning to face Byleth. “She started changing a few months ago. Right after she hired _you_.”

“But I haven’t really done anything.”

“Really now? Last I recall, you were the one to drive my little sister here. I’m willing to bet that the rest of the Black Eagles followed you here on your behalf too.”

Byleth mulls this over for a moment. “It’s just a small thing to drive her here.”

Dimitri grins at her. “And sometimes it’s the small things that make all the difference.”

“I’m confused,” says Byleth, “what are you trying to say?”

“I’m actually El’s half-brother,” answers Dimitri. “Our family took her in when she was young. After… some terrible events happened.”

Byleth gets the feeling that Dimitri wouldn’t elaborate even if she asks. She stays silent, listening.

“We’re only half related but she is fully my sister, no half measures,” continues Dimitri. “I want her to be happy. Especially after everything she’s been through.”

“I… see.”

“Can you do something for me, Miss Eisner?”

“What is it?”

“Can you continue to stand by her side?”

The mirth in Dimitri’s eyes fade. He regards her with a focused gaze. Eyes narrowed, unflinching. Perhaps a person other than Byleth would even go so far as to describe it as “threatening.” But Byleth only sees a look similar to what Edelgard had given her when they had first met. She feels that they really are siblings.

And that Dimitri genuinely cares for Edelgard.

Byleth nods. “I will do my best,” she says.

Dimitri grins. “Good!” He wraps his arms around Byleth, squeezing tight. “If I am being honest, I think you’ll end up becoming my sister too, if you know what I mean.”

“Huh?” goes Byleth, squirming a little. “Your family is going to take me in too?”

Dimitri chuckles.

From afar, Edelgard shouts. “ _Hey! Dimi! Just what do you think you’re doing?!_ ” She starts marching toward them.

He lets go immediately. “Aha, see?” he says, smug. “Already quite possessive.”

“Huh??” goes Byleth.

“My little sister’s all grown up,” he says, wiping away at the corner of his eye.

Edelgard steps up to Dimitri, pushes him on the chest. “Hey, you better not be doing anything weird, Dimi.”

“Oh don’t worry El,” he says, winking. “Just making sure my little sister’s not gonna end up with some punk.”

Edelgard gapes, flustered. She turns to face Byleth, her face a deep red. “Byleth, _don’t listen to him okay he’s just being weird_.”

“Huh???” goes Byleth, unable to keep up.

“Hey guys,” shouts Caspar, still standing with the rest of the group, “Sylvain says they’re gonna order pizza, you two want in?”

Edelgard marches back to the group. “Actually,” she says, her voice cold as ice, “there’s something I’d like to know first.”

Caspar visibly gulps. Petra freezes. Lysithea cowers behind the two.

“I’d like to know what my _on-duty_ staff are doing here in the middle of a _work day_.” As Edelgard speaks, the room suddenly grows colder.

“Looks like the Eagles are in trouble,” says Sylvain, laughing.

“ _Ack!_ ” goes Caspar, “w-we uh… we…”

“It is being time for a strategic retreat!” shouts Petra. She turns around and bolts.

“Wh-wha? Oh shit, wait for us!” goes Caspar.

“Retreat? What do you me — _aaaaAAARRRGHHH!_ ” goes Lysithea, the rest of her sentence cut off as Caspar scoops her up with one arm and throws her over his shoulder. He runs after Petra.

The group stares on, dumbfounded. They hear shouts ringing out from outside.

“Caspar! Where is the truck being?! Where is Bernadetta!?”

“Oh my fucking god! Bernie has the truck! Fuck!!”

“ _Caspar fucking let me down you fucking asshole I fucking swear!!!”_  
  


“Stop _struggling_ Lysithea! We all know you can’t run for shit!!!”

“ _RRRRRAAARRGGHHH!!!!!_ ” Lysithea screeches.

“Should we… should we go help or something?” asks Sylvain.

“No,” says Edelgard.

Sylvain almost seems to shrink.

“There is being no choice!” shouts Petra. “We are running back!!”

“Alright, right behind you!” answers Caspar.

Lysithea continues screeching.

The rest of the group still in the gym hear the sound of their running grow fainter and fainter as the seconds awkwardly crawl by.

“Well,” goes Dimitri, “that was… something. The people at your place sure are… _interesting,_ El.”

“Tell me about it,” says Edelgard, dryly.

Byleth chuckles. “It makes work fun,” she says.

“Anyway,” says Dimitri, “how about you two get changed and we get right to that meeting, El?”

Dedue leans toward Dimitri. Whispers something into the man’s ear. Dimitri grimaces.

“Let me guess,” says Edelgard, eyebrow raised, “need to reschedule the meeting?”

Dimitri scratches at the back of his head. He smiles sheepishly. “I forgot I had scheduled two meetings today.”

“Golden Deer?” asks Edelgard.

“Indeed,” says Dimitri. “We need to talk about the merchant booth that the weirdos want to open up for the event.”

“Ah, the weirdos again,” says Edelgard, chuckling.

“Weirdos?” asks Byleth.

“There’s this weird group that practically demanded to be part of the event,” says Dimitri. “They claim to be a kind of underground calisthenics group, but frankly I have no idea what on earth that could possibly entail.”

Byleth mulls this over. “They do calisthenics underground?”

“We just call ‘em weirdos,” says Sylvain.

“Anyway,” says Edelgard, “we won’t take up any more of your time. Sorry my team just barged in here unannounced.”

“Nonsense, El! No need to apologize! It was quite fun,” says Dimitri, grinning.

“Well then, thank you for your hospitality, Dimi.” Edelgard grins back at her brother. “Now, Byleth and I will get changed and we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Are you two like, _dating_ or what?” Felix suddenly asks.

Edelgard gapes at the black-haired man.

“Not yet, but maybe _soon_ ,” says Dimitri, smugly.

Edelgard gapes at her brother.

“ _Huh???_ ” goes Byleth.

“Aw come on,” goes Sylvain, “Felix asks some shit like that and no one slaps him?”

“We all know that when you ask, it’s in a weird, pervy way, Sylvain,” quips Ingrid.

“Hey now,” says Sylvain, “I think you’re just being judgy about my intentions.”

“ _Wait, what?_ ” goes Byleth.

Edelgard grabs Byleth’s wrist, tugs her toward the changing rooms. “Anyway we’re going to get changed now thankyougoodbye!”

“E-Edelgard,” says Byleth as she’s being tugged along, “what do they mean by that?”

Edelgard pulls them into the changing area. She grabs Byleth’s clothes from their shared locker and shoves it into Byleth’s arms. Edelgard’s face is flushed. She reaches deeper into the locker and collects her own clothes. She slams the locker shut.

“They’re just teasing us,” says Edelgard.

“Teasing? Why?”

“ _Byleth_ ,” says Edelgard, burying her face into her balled-up clothes, “ _I’m begging you, let’s not talk about this right now_.”

Byleth thinks she’d like to know what’s going on. She figures that maybe Edelgard will tell her when she’s feeling less embarrassed about whatever it is. She exhales deeply.

“Okay,” says Byleth. “I’ll get changed now.”

“Thank you,” answers Edelgard, her face still buried into her clothes.

It doesn’t take Byleth long to change her clothes in one of the gym’s changing rooms. She decides to sit outside, waiting for Edelgard. It takes Edelgard about an extra ten minutes to come out.

Edelgard clears her throat. “Shall we be off then?”

“Actually,” says Byleth. “Are you busy right now?”

“N-no,” says Edelgard, surprised. “I had thought that the meeting with Blue Lion would have taken the entire day. Why?”

“Hmm,” goes Byleth. “Wanna Netflix and chill?”

Edelgard blinks. She laughs, somewhat awkwardly. Byleth stares back, a little confused. Had she said it wrong? Lysithea _did_ say that it was a good idea, after all. It makes sense to Byleth. Nothing could improve a friendship more than bonding over television shows and relaxing. She wonders, briefly, if “Netflix and chill” could possibly mean anything else. She waves the thought away. It’s impossible, she thinks. How could something as straightforward as “Netflix and chill” possibly mean anything else?  
  


“ _Oh,_ ” goes Edelgard. “You weren’t joking.”

“I’m never joking,” says Byleth.

“Just out of curiosity, what does ‘Netflix and chill’ mean to you?”

“We watch Netflix and just relax,” answers Byleth. “Oh, but I don’t have a Netflix account. Is Hulu okay? Or is the Netflix an important part?”

“The streaming service hardly matters,” says Edelgard, laughing.

“I have some beers too, if that helps.”

Edelgard seems to consider this for a moment. Byleth smiles at Edelgard, hoping to look as friendly and as inviting as possible. Edelgard smiles back, softly.

“You know what? Sure. Let’s hang out at your place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some notes in general about this doozy of a chap, from me:
> 
> 1\. Writing about lifting is actually pretty challenging, especially when I can't assume that the audience has the same level of knowledge that I do hahaha  
> 2\. Fun fact, I actually wrote about powerlifting for my collegiate thesis. It was a creative nonfic project that sought to explore the usage of humor in a narrative sense. It was, academically speaking, A Hot Mess. But the creative part was fun!  
> 3\. I used kilos because that's what they normally use for competitive powerlifting and I didn't want to convert the units hahaha  
> 4\. Don't be mistaken, the numbers I gave the girls are actually pretty big. Byleth lifting 230 on the fly is definitely indicative that she could be world champ if she felt like it. Edelgard's 200 is similarly impressive, but not as much.   
> 5\. By IPF standards, I think Byleth would be in the -84kgs weight class. Edelgard and Petra would probably be in the 72kgs weight class. That's just me tho.   
> 6\. Not sure if 300 is actually a big number for men, all I know is that only a handful of dudes in my country can do it, and even then they're Very Large (in terms of weight class)  
> 6\. As an aside, and maybe a bit of reference, my best deadlift for a full powerlifting meet is 155 kilos. (Raw, for those who are familiar with powerlifting as a sport.) It's not the best, nor is it record-breaking, but in my country it's enough to make me stronger than the average gal. Again, that's in the context of my tiny Asian country. I'm fully aware that most westerners are generally way stronger than us. We like to joke that maybe you westerners have roids in the air or something, which is why y'all so beefy. We're just jealous.  
> 7\. I like to make Sylvain the butt of the joke, but I actually find him really interesting as a character. His surface-level antics are just so easy to make fun of.  
> 8\. I hope you all enjoyed! It took me a while to make this chap, but I'm hoping that it meets the expectations, hehe.   
> 9\. Thank you for reading and sticking with me this far!


	12. Chapter 8: A slip of the lips

Chapter 8: A slip of the lips

(Byleth)

They find themselves drinking beers in the cramped veranda of Byleth’s condo unit. Empty bottles gather between them, placed on a small, flimsy table. They sit on cheap plastic chairs, the space forcing them to be closer to one another.

It’s weird, Byleth thinks, having Edelgard in the space that Byleth is so used to inhabiting alone. She’s had friends come over every now and then. The other Black Eagles have even come over for drinks once or twice. But having Edelgard here? It’s odd, almost. It rings with an almost familiarity that Byleth could feel tugging at the back of her mind. At the same time, it’s so strikingly different, so odd to see the woman interacting with Byleth’s furniture, Byleth’s things, Byleth’s very space. It’s as if Edelgard has stepped into a very private part of Byleth’s life. It’s exciting, Byleth thinks.

“So,” says Edelgard, “your dad’s the reason why you got into lifting?”

“Yeah,” answers Byleth, “he was pretty into it. I only ever competed because of him. Personally, I was never into the whole competitive scene.”

“Oh?” goes Edelgard.

“When he died a few years ago, I was pretty devastated.” Byleth takes a swig of her beer. Edelgard does the same.

“Oh right,” Byleth says, her past trail of thought forgotten temporarily. “Do you want to smoke, Edelgard? My dad used to smoke. I still have one of his old ashtrays somewhere.”

“Are you… are you sure?”

“Well, I personally don’t think it’s a good habit, but I get it, I guess. Besides, I see you doing it with Dorothea all the time, maybe you’d feel better smoking with me too.” An odd, sharp feeling pangs in Byleth’s chest. She doesn’t know what it is, or what it could mean. All she knows is the thought of Edelgard and Dorothea together caused it. Byleth takes a big swig out of her beer.

Edelgard pulls out a pack of cigarettes from her purse. Pauses. She slips it back in. Closes the latch. “On second thought,” she says, “I’m good.”

“Oh,” goes Byleth, “okay then.”

“As you were saying about your father?” says Edelgard, leaning forward slightly.

“Right. My dad.” says Byleth. She looks out, toward the city. “My family used to run a small construction company. We built small houses and the such.”

Edelgard nods along, silent. She takes a swig of beer. Finding it empty, she grabs another bottle, opens it with the bottle opener on the table. Byleth continues speaking.

“My dad died because of a work-related accident. It was… terrible. I didn’t want to run the company after that. So I switched careers.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” says Edelgard, softly. “At least, you’re happy in your new career?”

“Thanks,” says Byleth. “This career suits me better, I think.” She smiles a little, wistful at the memory of her father and their times spent at construction sites. “During the funeral, a bunch of his old lifting buddies came to say their goodbyes. Turns out, dad was a pretty popular lifter in some circles.”

“So that’s why you competed?” asks Edelgard.

“I competed for dad. Just the one time. To say goodbye.”

The two are silent. Edelgard looks out toward the city as well. Byleth finishes off her beer, opens a new one.

“Sorry,” says Byleth, “that got kinda sad, huh?”

“Don’t be sorry,” says Edelgard. “Thank you for trusting me enough with that.”

“I feel like I can talk to you about anything,” says Byleth. She means it. There’s an odd comfort settling in Byleth’s bones the more time she spends with Edelgard.

“Actually,” says Edelgard, “I’d like to tell you a little bit about my background, if that’s alright. It’s fair.” She taps her fingers on the beer bottle in her hands. Adjusts her seating position. “You met Dimitri earlier. He’s actually… my half-brother. My parents divorced a long while back. His family took me in when I was young.”

“You don’t have to force yourself to tell me these things.”

“No,” says Edelgard, softly, “I _want_ to tell you.”

Byleth nods, ready to listen.

“I was born to a fairly large family. We were on a road trip, a vacation to somewhere up north.” Edelgard takes a deep breath. Exhales slowly. “We were driving through the mountains. It was a rainy night. The car lost control. I was… the only survivor.”

“Edelgard, I’m sorry to hear that.” Byleth reaches out, places a hand gently over Edelgard’s knee. She nods.

“I almost died too, actually. It was a series of surgeries that saved my life. The scars they left… aren’t pretty.” Edelgard frowns. “My uncle, the current president of Adrestia Corp., funded everything. It’s because of that… that I… kind of feel like the rest of my life should be spent toward making sure it was worth it for him.”

Edelgard looks away, out toward the city. Her lips pressed into a tight, fine line. Byleth thinks about what Edelgard had just said. How is that any fair to Edelgard? It’s not like she asked to be in the situation she’s in. Byleth isn’t sure if it’s her place to voice out those opinions. At least, maybe not now. She tries to think about other things. She decides to take a good chug out of her beer.

“Can I ask what they look like?” says Byleth

“They?” asks Edelgard.

“The uh, the scars.”

“Oh,” goes Edelgard. She hesitates a little. Takes another swig of beer. “They’re all over my torso. The biggest one’s on my chest.” Edelgard moves to take a swig of beer.

Byleth nods, she unbuttons the first few buttons of her shirt. Edelgard chokes on her beer. Sputters.

“B-B-Byleth!?”

“Oh,” goes Byleth, stopping after unbuttoning three buttons, “I just wanted to show you my weird chest mark.” She pulls her shirt open slightly. There, upon the clavicle, a jagged mark that resembles a scar. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Edelgard chuckles, her eyes slowly trailing down. They dart back up. There’s a light blush dusting her cheeks. “I hope you’re not expecting me to show off mine.”

“Don’t worry, you can do that on your own time.”

“Wow,” goes Edelgard. She runs her hand through her hair. Takes a large swig of beer.

“Why, did I say something weird again?” asks Byleth, buttoning her shirt again.

“No,” answers Edelgard. “At this point I’m realizing that it’s just inherently part of who you are?”

“What is?”  
  


Edelgard gestures vaguely toward the entirety of Byleth. “You. All these things you do. All these things you say. It’s just so… _you._ ”

“Is that a good thing?” asks Byleth.

Edelgard regards Byleth with an expression that Byleth can’t quite read. She seems smug. Inquisitive. As if she knows something yet won’t say. As if there’s something deeper that she just won’t put words to.

“You tell me,” answers Edelgard.

“Well,” says Byleth, “my dad gave me great girl advice when I was growing up, so I’d say yeah.”

“Girl advice?”

“You know, advice to help you be better friends with girls.”

“Just friends or… you know, _friends_?” asks Edelgard, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t understand,” says Byleth. “Is there a difference?”

Edelgard laughs, heartily. To Byleth it sounds like the ringing of chimes, notes that are soft and sweet. The sound seems to pull the very air out of Byleth’s chest. _Captivating_ , she thinks. Part of her wants to draw out more of this sound. Hear more of Edelgard’s laughter.

“What’s so funny?” says Byleth.

“Oh nothing,” says Edelgard, her chin in the palm of her hand. She looks at Byleth from the corner of her eye. “I just pity the fool that ended up falling in love with you.”

“Hey! What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Byleth runs a hand through her hair, chuckling. She feels impossibly warm. Maybe the beer, she thinks. She takes another swig at the bottle in her hand.

Edelgard bites her lower lip. There’s a mischievous smile playing on her lips. She takes a swig of beer as well. She leans forward slightly. Her movements are a little uncoordinated, a little unsteady. Byleth thinks that Edelgard’s trying a little too hard to keep up with Byleth’s drinking pace.

“I said what I said,” Edelgard says, almost defiantly. There’s an edge to her tone that Byleth hasn’t heard before. “You’re a little too easy to love, Byleth Eisner.”

Edelgard’s eyes narrow, ever so slightly. It’s as if she’s watching Byleth carefully. Waiting, patiently waiting for the other woman’s next move. A challenge, almost. Like she’s just played her hand and watching what Byleth will do next.

Byleth doesn’t like to lose.

“You’re not hard to love either, Edelgard Hresvelg,” she answers, her tone cool, even. Byleth herself isn’t sure where the words came from. They seem to have just bubbled up from the pit of her stomach. Without prompting. Without thought. Maybe she’s been feeling this way, but unable to put words to those thoughts of hers. Her chest aches again.

Edelgard’s eyes go wide. The flush on her cheeks spreads down her neck, down to the part of her chest revealed by her blouse. The white fabric is a stark contrast against her blushing skin. Byleth finds her eyes tracing down. She forces her eyes to look up again. Her chest aches more, her heart beating a little too hard. She feels the thrumming of her heart on her very bones.

“I should…” says Edelgard, the confidence in her voice suddenly gone, “I should go home.” Byleth can’t shake the feeling that Edelgard’s words don’t match the way her lavender eyes were staring at Byleth, but she decides that it isn’t the time or place to question these things.

“Hmm,” goes Byleth. “It’s late. And we’ve been drinking. You can crash on either my couch or my bed. I’ll take the option you didn’t choose. But if you’d really like to go home, let me just sober up a bit and then I’ll drive you.”

“I’ll take the couch then.”

“Alright. Thanks for tonight Edelgard, I really enjoy spending time with you.”

“Yeah,” says Edelgard. The smile on her lips is soft, delicate. There’s a look in her eyes that Byleth doesn’t fully understand, but it makes Byleth feel like she’s seeing a side of Edelgard that no one else gets to see. _Tender_ , Byleth thinks. It makes her feel like she’s going to burst into confetti. So she stands up, starts collecting the bottles strewn about. Any more of Edelgard and she would definitely just explode on the spot.

“This was… _fun_ ,” says Edelgard. “And Byleth?”

“Yeah?”

“You can call me El, if you want. It’s kind of a special nickname because it’s what my family calls me.”

Byleth freezes, empty bottles in her arms. She locks eyes with Edelgard again. There’s a sincerity in her eyes that makes Byleth feel… _safe_. There’s a fire burning in her chest again. Wild. Powerful. Surging through her veins. Settling on every inch of her being. She feels like this is a warmth she’s wanted all her life. A warmth that she’s felt in the echoes of her dreams but never quite in person like this. Byleth clumsily sets the bottles back down. Edelgard watches her silently, curious. Byleth pushes the small table aside, takes a few staggering steps toward Edelgard.

“El,” says Byleth. She takes step closer to Edelgard.

“Yes,” says Edelgard.

“El.” Byleth steps closer still, hardly any space in between them. She leans over her, their faces inches apart.

“Yes.”

Byleth cups Edelgard’s face with her hands. Edelgard looks up at Byleth. _Longing. Want._

“Only if…” says Byleth.

“Only if…?” asks Edelgard.

“Only if you call me By.”

Edelgard’s hands reach up, tenderly hold Byleth’s. “Of course, By.”

Byleth leans down, presses her lips against Edelgard’s. The fire in Byleth’s chest roars. There’s nothing else in the world, nothing but Edelgard’s soft lips, her soft touch, Edelgard and only Edelgard.

Edelgard kisses back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually part of the previous chapter, but I decided to give it its own space since it made sense to do so on an organizational level. This part's been done for a while now, actually! Hope y'alls enjoyed, hihi.


	13. Little bird in the cage

Little bird in the cage

The girl in the cell is Edelgard.

The other guards in the castle, they speak in whispers behind your back. They seem to believe that you are hexed. Cursed. Mad. On good days they only call you strange. They watch your movements, shake their heads when you say you are about to head down to Edelgard’s cell. They believe that she must have cast some magic on you. Pagan arts. Forbidden curses. There must be something, anything that keeps you from regarding the woman in the cell as if she were the devil incarnate.

The truth of the matter is, in the months that you have watched over her, you had managed to fall in love with her.

You stride down the winding paths leading to Edelgard’s cell, as confidently as you can. Pain shoots through your right leg as you try to balance a tray in your hands. An injury you had sustained earlier in the day. An arrow, shot by an archer from afar that you had not spotted. It was a skirmish against rebels south of the territory. It was also the first time in a long time that you were assigned a mission where you were to fight in the front lines.

The sound of your boots clacking against stone echo throughout the empty dungeon. You make your way down the familiar steps, down to the cell, now somewhat cleaner, and always brightly lit. In the time that you had been assigned to watch Edelgard, you had done your best to make small efforts to make life at least a little better here. It still smells damp, but it’s a lot more bearable than it used to be.

Edelgard shifts in her makeshift bed, upon hearing your approach. “By?” she asks, her voice thick with sleep.

“Aye,” you answer, smiling.

You push the cell gate open. (Edelgard had used magic to open it since you kept getting your head stuck through the metal bars.) Edelgard sits up slowly, winces. The bandages wrapped around her torso are stained with blood. You set the tray down on the small, makeshift table beside her bed. Upon the tray are fresh bandages and some salves for her wounds.

The details behind the Priestess’ wounds and scars are a closely kept secret. All Edelgard tells you is that the King demands usage of her magic, which she does not exactly give willingly. Every few weeks, the King’s personal guard comes to collect Edelgard from her cell. They return her cut, battered, and bloody. The thought makes you sick. It’s done nothing but grow the feeling of spite that you had harbored towards the man upon the throne.

You kneel beside the bed, ignoring the sharp spike of pain shooting up your leg. “Here,” you say, “let’s get your bandages changed.”

“It’s quite alright,” says the Priestess, “I can do this myself.”

“Hush now,” you answer, “let me help you.”

Edelgard relents, letting you unwrap the bandages around her body. You check on the many cuts that snake around her body, making sure that the healing is going well. There’s a wild blush on Edelgard’s cheeks as she is eventually laid bare before you.

You chuckle. “Relax,” you say. “This isn’t the first time I’m seeing you naked, El.”

The blush on her cheeks deepens. “Ugh,” she goes. “I see sleeping with you has done nothing but inflate your ego.”

“Anyone would be the same after being with someone as beautiful as yourself,” you say, laughing.

Edelgard looks away, the blush on her cheeks spreading to the tips of her ears. You laugh harder.

You start to apply the salve to her wounds, carefully, gently. “Do you maybe want to sneak out again to go bathe by the lakeside? Fresh air will do you good.” you say. The wounds on her body heal slowly. The conditions she’s in are certainly not helping.

“Hmm,” goes Edelgard. “That sounds lovely. But I’m feeling quite tired.”

“Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow sounds good.”

“Ah,” you go, as you finish applying the salve. “I’ve been meaning to ask something.”

“Mhm?”

“I had been doing a little reading in the library,” you say.

“Impressive,” she quips.  
  


“Shut it.”

“Sorry,” she says, giggling. “Please continue.”

“As I said,” you continue, as you start to wrap fresh bandages around Edelgard’s wounds. “Apparently you were the Royal Princess.”

“That I am. What of it?”

“Why do they call you Priestess then?”

“Oh,” goes Edelgard. She shifts awkwardly in her bed.

You gesture for her to raise your arms as you continue to wrap the bandages around her. She obliges.

“Well,” she says, “to be completely honest… I’ve only ever heard _you_ call me that.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Well, please understand,” she elaborates. “You were the only one I’ve had to talk to for a long time. There was a stretch of time after what happened to your father where no one would talk to me at all.”

“Wait,” you say, “what are you getting at, El?”

“I… ah… well…”

“Well?”

“I think you may have been calling me by the wrong title this whole time. I just assumed that you misheard ‘princess’ for ‘priestess’ and I never bothered to correct you.”

“…oh,” is all you manage.

There’s an awkward pause. You remain kneeling beside her, bandages in hand. You blink at each other.

“So… you aren’t a Priestess,” you say.

“I mean,” goes Edelgard, “i-if it makes you feel better to call me that, you _can_ if you want to.”

You frown. “But that’s not your title.”

“Titles are useless anyway.”

“Okay. Priestess is fine?”

“It’s absolutely fine, Sir Knight.”

You grin. You finish tying off the end of the bandage. “All done,” you say. You rise to your feet, wincing as the pain in your leg throbs.

It doesn’t escape Edelgard’s notice. “Are you hurt, By?”

“Ah, no need to worry. Just an arrow wound from a skirmish this morning.” You sheepishly rub the back of your head, grinning. You do your best to ignore the burning pain of the wound just under your heavy armor.

“Skirmish? This morning?” Edelgard’s eyes are narrowed, lips pressed firmly together.

“Aye. Some bandits. It was a quick battle. Just got rusty, I suppose.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“Deal?” you ask, confused. “What deal?”

“Take off your leg armor,” says Edelgard.

“El, really, it’s just a small thing —”

“By, _please_.”

You relent, undoing the clasps of your leg armor. They clatter on the stone floor, revealing the blood-soaked bandage wrapped securely around your thigh. You sit on the edge of Edelgard’s cot. Now Edelgard kneels beside her bed, looking closely at your injury.

“May I?” she asks, gesturing toward the bandage.

You nod.

Gently, Edelgard undoes the wrapping. The wound is fresh, and raw. Edelgard winces as she sees the full extent of the damage.

“The arrow had gone clean through,” she says, under her breath.

You laugh uncomfortably, sensing the worry in her voice. “Beats dull guard duty.”

Edelgard looks up at you. “Dull is _safe_ , my light.”

You’re speechless. Wide-eyed, you stare as she quickly and deftly pulls the dagger hanging from your belt.

“Wha — _hey!_ ” you go, but she holds the edge against her fingertip.

“Allow me to use my magic in a way that I actually want to,” she says. In the dim light, the scars on her hands seem shiny, a contrast of jagged slashes and cuts against otherwise smooth skin.

Edelgard cuts the tip of her finger. She holds it over your wound. She whispers in a low tone, words that you don’t understand. A single drop of blood falls upon your skin. It feels warm. A warmth that seems to take root, easing the dull throb of the open gash.

The wound begins to close. The bleeding stops. The skin heals shut. In a matter of moments, nothing is left of the wound but a scar on each side of your thigh.

“How does it feel?” asks Edelgard.

You reach out, kiss the tip of Edelgard’s finger. “Much better. Thank you, my love.”

Edelgard blushes. Looks away. “Yes. Well. Let’s get your armor back on.”

“Not excited to see more of my naked flesh?” you tease. She hands you back your dagger, which you sheathe once more.

“Once again, sleeping with you has only fattened your ego so.”

You laugh, rising to your feet. Gently, you help her rise to her feet. You press a soft kiss to her lips.

Edelgard is helping you with the last few clasps when you hear the clattering of armored footsteps descending the dungeon’s steps. You stiffen. It had only been a few days since the King’s Guard had come to take Edelgard. She hasn’t even fully recovered yet.

A heavily-armored guard appears at the foot of the steps.

“The King summons Edelgard again?”

“No,” says the guard. “I am here for you, Sir Byleth.”

“Me?”

“Aye,” confirms the guard, nodding.

“What could my uncle possibly want with Byleth?” asks Edelgard.

“Shut it, _wench,_ ” hisses the guard.

“ _Don’t speak to her like that,_ ” you growl.

The knight reaches for their sword. Draws the blade. The steel glints in the firelight. “Insubordination will not be tolerated.”

You sigh, deeply. “Alright,” you say. “I’m coming.”

Edelgard looks up to you, worry in her lavender eyes.

“It’ll be fine,” you whisper.

The guard sheathes their sword once more. “Wiser choice, Knight.”

You let the guard lead you up the dungeon’s steps, along the halls. They bring you to the throne room. Bowing deeply, they leave you at the end of the room’s entryway. The large, heavy doors clatter shut behind you.

The throne room is large, and elegant. A long stretch of brilliant red carpet leads you to the steps upon which the throne sits. You are surrounded by beautiful chandeliers, intricate candelabras, detailed banners.

Everything seems normal save for a few things. Along pillars, hanging from chandeliers, are tightly wrapped bundles of spices and aromatic herbs. Near the steps of the throne are numerous bowls with incense constantly burning away. The smoke is thick, the air heavy with the scent of it all mixing. It takes everything within you not to cough. Your eyes sting. Your throat itches.

Despite this, despite all these scents threatening to burn your very nose hairs, one scent seems to rise above it all.

The undeniable scent of decay.

You stride down the hall, your armor glinting in the low firelight. Before the throne, you fall to one knee. “You have summoned me, your majesty?”

From upon his throne, the King looks down at you. The King looks sickly, his skin mottled and almost gray. His eyes are bloodshot, his hair thinning and white. The scent of decomposition is almost overpowering. You bow your head lower. The man chuckles, darkly.

“I had heard that you were injured at the skirmish today,” he says.

“Aye, your majesty. An arrow, through the leg,” you answer.

“Interesting to see how you kneel without pain, Knight. Almost like you seemed to heal instantaneously. Almost like _magic_.”

You say nothing. Something in the man’s very voice seems to turn your blood to ice. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Cold sweat trickles down your spine. You raise your head, only slightly, enough to meet his gaze.

His eyes are cold. His skin almost gray like ash. His lips curled into a vicious grin. “Love is quite the powerful motivator, is it not?”

“Your majesty?” you ask. Your voice fails you, it quivers.

“It’s quite convenient, actually. I had in my hands an unruly child that refused to see reason. Then along you come and suddenly the unruly child becomes an obedient one.” The King narrows his eyes, rests his head on a closed fist.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, your majesty,” is all you manage to say in response. You’re trembling, yet you try to hide it. A cold seems to settle on your bones, rattling, rattling. The man upon the throne continues to stare down at you, unflinching. He chuckles, yet there is no warmth in his eyes, no joy in the sound.

“I will put it in terms that _you_ would understand,” he says. “That woman in the cell, the one you seem _so devoted_ to, she and I have a deal, you see. She does as I command, and in exchange you spend most of your days away from the battlefield and tending to her instead.”

As he commands? Is that why she keeps returning to the cell with cuts and wounds? Is he commanding her to use her magic to his benefit?

“At first,” the King continues, “I had assigned you to guard her out of spite. You were supposed to torment her. I had thought that the death of your father would have turned you to anger. But look what happened. Two little lovebirds, thinking that your little adventures had escaped my notice.”

“Your majesty, I —” you begin to say, but your voice fails you.

“Oh, no need to explain,” he says. “For I am a kind and benevolent king, and I am willing to overlook these little things. After all, it is all born of love, is it not?” He smiles at you, his too-white teeth gleaming at you.

Your insides churn. Every instinct in your body tells you to run. To run far, far away and never look back. You steel yourself, thinking of Edelgard. Thinking of how they must have hurt her. Of how she must have suffered.

_For you._

The churning in your gut intensifies, like shafts of ice were shoved down your throat. You close your hands into tight fists. Swallowing hard, you meet his gaze.

“Why tell me this, your majesty?”

The King gestures lazily. From behind the throne, a scantily-clad woman emerges, a pair of jagged daggers dangling at her side. “You remember our friend here, do you not?”

The ice in your stomach turns to burning coals. Anger, boiling anger. Of course you remember the Assassin. She was the one to kill your father at the King’s behest.

“Do not think that the woman in the cell is the only one with magics at her disposal,” says the King. “Our friend here has a magic of her own. She can find anyone in the entire realm. All she needs is a little blood.”

The woman pulls out a vial of dark liquid from a pouch. She dangles it in her fingertips. “The little bird in the cage can fly if she likes,” says the woman. “But no matter how far her little wings take her, I will always find her.”

“Consider this a warning, Sir Byleth,” says the King. His voice echoes throughout the throne room, dripping with venom. It’s as if he is trying to etch his words onto your very skin. “I sent you out on the battlefield for a reason. This is a warning for the both of you. Your father thought to escape with you and the girl. He was a fool. Do not make the same mistake.”

You say nothing. The King laughs, loud and booming, but the sound fills you with dread.

“Well?” goes the King. “Answer, Knight.”

You bow your head low. You squeeze your eyes shut. “Yes, your majesty.”

“ _Very good_ ,” he says, sarcastically. “That will be all. Go. Run off to your little bird, I’m sure she’s worried sick about you.”

You rise to your feet, unsteadily. Your temples throb with what you feel is a headache coming on. You bow once more. “Understood,” you say, stiffly. You turn on your heel, marching down the long hall. The doors are opened for you, and you find yourself outside the throne room.

You find a wall to lean against. Clutching your chest, you try to catch your breath. Your head begins to throb. It matches the racing of your heart. Pulses of pain, aching, aching. You reach up to cradle your head.

A voice, without form, without voice. Words, somehow rising from the very depths of your mind.

_______

_Hmm. This is quite the situation we have found ourselves in this time. Why must you always go off seeking trouble, little one?_

_________

You blink several times. Look up and down the hallway. No one else. The aching in your head is almost blinding. You take a few staggering steps. Edelgard, you think. You must find Edelgard.

_______

_Brace yourself, little one, for justice is soon to come. Take the girl. Fear not, for I am at your side._

_______

You take another step forward. The aching in your head radiates like no pain you’ve ever felt before. Another step. Your vision blurs.

Another step. Your legs feel weak, your muscles shaking with your every movement.

Another step.

And everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got to update after a while, sorry about that!
> 
> And also sorry if it's a bit rough around the edges, I'm trying to get my groove back on. As we all know, it's been... hectic lately, and that's putting things very, very lightly!
> 
> Stay safe everyone. Donate when you can. 
> 
> And as always, thank you for reading!


	14. Chapter 9: Infinitely Tender

Chapter 9: Infinitely Tender

(Edelgard)

Edelgard wakes up to an unfamiliar ceiling. She blinks a few times. Rubs the sleep out of her eyes. It takes her a moment to register everything that had happened the previous night. Drinking. Stories. _Kiss_.

Edelgard sits up, a little too quickly. Her head spins a little.

“Take it easy,” says a voice, chuckling. Byleth.

Off to the kitchen, Byleth is busy cooking. On the dining table is a heaping pile of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bacon. The smell of which permeates the entire area. Edelgard’s stomach rumbles. Her eyes widen at what looks to be enough food to feed an entire family.

“Wow, that’s…” she says, voice trailing off.

Byleth looks at the table. Frowns. “I knew it,” she says. “Not enough, right?”

Edelgard laughs lightly. “Oh _no_ , quite the opposite. That looks like a lot.”

“Really?” asks Byleth. “This is pretty standard, if you ask me.”

A thought flashes by Edelgard’s mind. She thinks, _ah, if we lived together we’d probably have to do the groceries once or twice a week_. Her cheeks immediately warm up. She shakes her head. _No,_ she tells herself, _we were just a bit drunk, there’s nothing here to take too seriously_. Edelgard rises to her feet. Tries to smooth out the dress shirt she’d just slept in.

“Wow,” goes Byleth, setting the pan down and killing the heat. “Somehow you still look really good in your outfit.” She grins broadly.

The floor of Byleth’s condo is suddenly incredibly interesting to Edelgard. It’s way too early for this. Her brain cells are barely processing. “C-can I uh… use your bathroom for a bit? To freshen up.”

Byleth smiles. “Yeah, of course. You know where it is. I set out a toothbrush for you to use, by the way. And some towels, if you wanna take a shower.”

_She’s so sweet. So considerate_. Edelgard clears her throat. _Get a hold of yourself, woman_ , she commands herself, and stiffly walks to Byleth’s bathroom.

“Ah!” goes Byleth.

“Yeah?” answers Edelgard, trying her hardest not to imagine Byleth naked in the shower.

“I can lend you a change of clothes, if you like.”

“Ah…” goes Edelgard. Her brain is short circuiting. Rational thoughts? What the fuck are those? All she can imagine right now is Byleth’s underwear. Byleth’s clothes maybe strewn about on the bedroom floor. Byleth, pinned underneath Edelgard, moaning as she…

Edelgard clears her throat again.

“Are you okay?” asks Byelth. She walks up to Edelgard. Stands a little too close. Puts a hand on Edelgard’s forehead. “You’re a bit warm.”

Edelgard wants to melt into a puddle. “I’m uh… just stressed. I remembered there’s a quite a bit of work that I’ve been neglecting, actually.” Not a lie, Edelgard has been uncharacteristically pushing aside work in favor of spending extra time with Byleth.

“Don’t worry,” goes Byleth, “I know you don’t like it when people at work pry, so I’ll lend you clothes I haven’t worn in a while. Besides, I think they’d notice if you turned up wearing the same clothes you did yesterday.”

_Yeah,_ Edelgard thinks, _that makes sense. That totally makes sense._ She could definitely go home and change into her own clothes if she wanted, but it’s too early in her day and she’s unfortunately too gay to realize that there are any alternatives in life. So Edelgard Hresvelg nods. _So thoughtful_ , she thinks, gay pining just taking full control of her every thought process.

“Okay!” goes Byleth, sounding a little excited. “Wait a bit.”

She leaves Edelgard in the hallway as she heads into her bedroom, the sound of drawers opening and closing breaking the silence. Edelgard takes a moment to really look around the relatively sparse condo. Not much in the way in terms of décor or furniture. Just messy enough to give the impression that the space is lived in. A lone framed photo, of a young Byleth with what Edelgard assumes to be her parents, the trio smiling in front of a half-built house. Byleth peeks out from her bedroom door.

“Ah…” goes Byleth, grinning sheepishly. “The underwear thing might be a problem?”

Edelgard blushes. She hadn’t thought of that. “A-actually… I have a spare set of clothes at the office. I can… probably change there.”

Byleth nods. Pads back toward Edelgard. “That’s good then. Here, I think these should fit you fine.”

She hands Edelgard a pair of black jogging pants and a black shirt with the words “Fishing Time!” in bold, white font on the front. On the back of the shirt is a crude image of a fish.

“You like fishing?” asks Edelgard.

“Well,” goes Byleth, rubbing the back of her neck, “it’s one of those things I’ve always wanted to try, you know? I feel like I’d probably be good at it or something.”

“I see that, yeah,” goes Edelgard, nodding along. She can imagine Byleth, standing by a lakeside, as still as a statue with a fishing rod in hand. Off to the side, Edelgard, seated under a tree, sketching a picture of Byleth as she fishes. Maybe a nice afternoon date idea…

Again, Edelgard clears her throat.

“Y-yes, this will work,” she says, eager to get her mind off of things. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem!” goes Byleth. “I’ll be waiting for ya by the dining table. Take your time.”

Edelgard sets off to taking a shower. It’s all fine and normal until Edelgard gets the shower running, reaches out to take the soap. _This soap has touched Byleth’s naked body_ , comes the thought. Edelgard’s hand freezes, her fingers barely grazing the cleaning implement. _Byleth has been naked in this shower._ If Edelgard was sweating profusely, she couldn’t tell, with the shower water washing over her. She turns the knob, to the coldest possible setting. The icy water practically stings. _Keep it together Edelgard Hresvelg, you’re a grown fucking woman. You’ve had sex before. What the actual fuck is wrong with you._

Still, her hand trembles as she reaches out for the soap bar. A regular soap bar, white, probably the moisturizing kind. Edelgard takes a sniff at it. It smells pleasant. _Is this what Byleth smells like_? Slowly, slowly, she touches the bar against her forearm. _This is so weirdly hot_ , comes the thought. Edelgard immediately feels embarrassed. _Is this like, indirect touching_? With her free hand, Edelgard reaches out, slaps herself across the face as hard as she can. _Slap!_ “C’mon Edelgard, fucking keep it together,” she hisses under her breath.

From outside the bathroom, she hears faint footsteps. A knock on the door. “ _Edelgard?_ ” comes Byleth’s voice, muffled. “ _You ok?_ ”

Edelgard starts soaping herself vigorously, before any of her horny, teenager thoughts come flying back into her brain. “ _I’m fine!_ ” she shouts. “ _It’s an uh… a morning routine! Helps… wake you up!_ ”

From beyond the door, _slap!_ Edelgard freezes, in the middle of soaping up her legs. _Did Byleth just…?_

“ _I don’t know about this one Edelgard, it just really hurt._ ”

Edelgard laughs, weird thoughts about soap forgotten. “ _Sorry,”_ she says, “ _maybe it only works for me?_ ”

“ _I think I’ll make more coffee so you don’t need to slap yourself,_ ” says Byleth, after a pause.

“ _Thanks,_ ” goes Edelgard, smiling to herself. Tiny explosions, going off in Edelgard’s chest, as she stares at the door. _I’m a lost cause, aren’t I_ , comes the thought.

Later on, Edelgard steps peeks out of the shower, brown hair damp and dripping as she still gently dries it. “What do I do with the toothbrush?”

“Just leave it in the cup?” comes Byleth’s response, clearly talking while chewing. “So you can use it next time.”

“ _Wow,_ ” goes Edelgard, shaking her head.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” says Edelgard, giggling. She could get used to this, she thinks.

They eat together, laughing and smiling at one another. Tiny explosions go off in Edelgard’s chest, one after the other. Did the world somehow seem brighter? Everything felt light. Warm. Nice. In a way, Edelgard wanted this moment to stretch on forever, never to end. Them, the monstrous pile of pancakes, bacon, and eggs between them. Them and their warm smiles. Them and this fleeting feeling of safety and belonging and want and need. Tiny explosions, going off and off again. _Boom, boom, boom_. The thumping in her heart is almost painful, but so, _so_ nice.

Byleth stands, abruptly. Walks over to Edelgard’s side of the table. Edelgard looks up at the blue-haired woman, confused.

“I like this,” says Byleth, smiling softly, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

“What do you mean?” asks Edelgard, even though she knows the answer to the question.

“This. You, here, with me. Spending time together. _This._ ” And Byleth leans down, presses her lips against Edelgard.

The kiss tastes like coffee. Like maple syrup. Like salty bacon fat. _A little bit like home_.

Edelgard reaches up, wraps her arms loosely around Byleth’s neck. The kiss deepens. Byleth cups Edelgard’s face with both her hands, rough, calloused hands touching her so gently. They part, smiling at each other. They press their foreheads together, each blushing deep red.

A thought crosses Edelgard’s mind. Byleth is surprisingly smooth. A little too smooth, almost. Sure, she comes off as vaguely nonthreatening and goofy, but when she actually _tried_ , she seems to be really good at sweeping women off their feet. (That or Edelgard’s sense of what constitutes as “smooth” is just “so awkward it somehow _works,_ ” but there’s no way that this was an issue on Edelgard’s part, _right_?)

Edelgard wonders if Byleth was even single. They’d never talked about it and Byleth never made any mention of any partner, so Edelgard had just… assumed. Which was a dangerous thing to do, Edelgard realizes, especially after she’d just spent the night at her place.

“I have… an important personal question, if that’s alright with you,” goes Edelgard.

Edelgard loosens her embrace and Byleth takes a step back. “Yeah? What is it?”

Part of Edelgard doesn’t even want to ask. Doesn’t want to know. But she pushes on. “Are you… seeing anyone right now?”

“Hm?” goes Byleth. She tilts her head to the side. “I mean, yeah?”

Edelgard’s stomach drops. _So she’s seeing someone else._ The realization stings. Part of her wishes she’d never brought it up at all. She feels like the ground beneath her has suddenly given way, and she’s free falling into the earth. She looks away, tries to hide her embarrassment. So she was making assumptions, she thinks. Of course, someone like Byleth couldn’t possibly be single. She’s just so…

Edelgard looks at Byleth from the corner of her eye. Byleth blinks, looking confused. _So easy to love_.

“Edelgard?” asks Byleth, innocently.

“What are they like…? The person you’re seeing.”

A small furrow of Byleth’s brow. A tilt of the head. Edelgard resists the urge to pull her close for another kiss.

“She’s… very nice,” says Byleth. “And very beautiful. She works very hard and does her best for all the people around her.”

“I… see,” says Edelgard. Her stomach feels like it’s dropped all the way to the center of the earth.

“Why are you asking?” asks Byleth.

“It’s nothing,” answers Edelgard. “We should… we should head to work now?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Edelgard starts collecting the dishes from the table. Picked clean. “Quite the voracious eater, huh?” she says, chuckling.

“Hey, I’ll handle that, you don’t have to —”

“— it’s the least I can do. You should get ready too.” In truth, Edelgard just wanted to face the wall for a bit. Some small task to distract herself. Anything to get her to stop thinking too hard about everything unfolding before her.

It’s a few minutes later when Edelgard finishes with her chore, and Byleth steps out of her bedroom, ready for the day.

“Reporting for duty!” says Byleth, grinning broadly. She’s wearing one of the many uniform shirts she has. Her blue hair is a wild mess, like she’d just rolled out of bed.

Edelgard wipes her hands on a dish towel. Steps up to Byleth. “Your hair’s all messy still. Lean down, let me…” and she freezes, hand mid-air as she reaches out.

Byleth leans down, looking expectantly at Edelgard. The brown-haired woman isn’t quite sure if she should proceed with what she was doing. Wasn’t that overstepping? A little too intimate?

Byleth looks more confused. Her brows furrow, ever so slightly. She leans down more. Edelgard’s hand remains a few inches away. Leans down a little more. Nope, still not touching. More. Edelgard doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, trying to calculate the relative morality of what she was about to do. Byleth presses her head against Edelgard’s fingertips, almost like an expectant puppy. She tilts her head, looks at Edelgard. “Go on?” she says, confused.

Edelgard is finally broken away from her thoughts, sees Byleth practically rubbing her head against Edelgard’s outstretched hand. She combs through Byleth’s blue hair. Softly, affectionately. Edelgard laughs. Byleth hums, content. _This is too much_ , comes the thought. Edelgard leans down, kisses Byleth.

“Ah,” goes Byleth, “I thought you were gonna fix my hair.”

“It was a ruse. You have been tricked, Miss Eisner. I did it to steal a kiss.”

Byleth chuckles. Kisses Edelgard back. “You don’t need to steal things I’d give you freely.”

Small explosions, going off in Edelgard’s chest. Part of her never wants to leave. She decides that maybe it’s okay to indulge in this warmth. Just a little bit.

“Oh yeah!” goes Byleth, “I have a favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Can you keep my phone and keys in your purse? My pants got no pockets.”

“Wh- Huh? Why? You don’t have a bag of your own?”

“Hmmm…” goes Byleth, pondering. “My dad used to do something similar with my mom all the time. I wanted to see what that’s like.”

This is it. Edelgard’s just going to spontaneously combust. Cause of death: _too gay_. She reaches out a hand. The tips of her ears feel like they’re burning again. She wonders if she’ll just have to live with all of her blood constantly rushing to her face every few minutes. “Okay, give it.”

“Heh. Thanks, boss,” says Byleth, grinning a little too smugly, as she hands the items to Edelgard, who stuffs it into her bag.

_We’re being so fucking domestic right now it’s almost too embarrassing,_ comes the thought.

The drive to the gym is relatively uneventful. Edelgard learns what kind of music Byleth likes to listen to on the commute to work. They chatter lightly about the upcoming event. There’s a moment when Byleth takes too long to stare at Edelgard at a stop light that she misses the moment when the light turns green. The car behind them wasn’t too happy about their small moment of absolute domesticity.

They enter the gym. Thankfully, it’s busy enough that no one really notices that they’d come in together. Byleth rushes off to meet a client that had come in earlier than anticipated. Edelgard makes her way to her desk, sets her purse down, wills her rapidly beating heart to calm down.

She’s immediately approached by Lysithea, awkwardly dragging a standee almost as tall as her with a white sheet thrown over it.

“Miss Edelgard!” she goes, upbeat, “The tarps and promotional materials finally came in! Check this out!”

“Ah, yes, hello to you too Lysithea,” says Edelgard, chuckling.

“Ah right, good morning and all that —” She freezes as she looks at Edelgard’s shirt. “Hm. Have I seen that shirt before?”

“… No?” goes Edelgard, trying to hide the absolute panic that has suddenly washed over her.

“I guess I haven’t!” she says, laughing.

Edelgard awkwardly laughs along. Lysithea fusses with the standee, prepares for her grand unveiling. She waves her arms around with a flourish.

“Anyway, without further ado, here it is, Miss Edelgard!” says Lysithea as she dramatically pulls the sheet off of the standee.

On the banner is a picture of the team, huddled together. A picture taken earlier in the year when Byleth was still a relatively new hire. Above the group is the Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness logo. Below the picture is the caption “Your trusted companions in your fitness journey!”

“The picture we used here really turned out good,” says Lysithea, pointing. “I was worried that the pic we were gonna use was a little low-res, but if you look at the details, you can even see the caption on Byleth’s… shirt…” Lysithea trails off, staring at the caption on Byleth’s shirt. She slowly turns to look at Edelgard. Stares at Edelgard’s shirt.

On the banner, Byleth is proudly wearing the “Fishing Time!” shirt.

Lysithea blinks a few times, switching between staring at the shirt on the banner and the shirt Edelgard’s wearing.

Edelgard clears her throat. “Yes, well, thank you for this Lysithea.” It takes every fiber of Edelgard’s mental fortitude to not just start screaming. “It really did turn out good.”

Lysithea blinks a few more times, nods. “You’re… welcome.” She looks like the truth of the universe were just unfolded before her eyes. “I’ll uh… I’ll leave you to it now. Excuse me.” She says, staring blankly at the wall behind Edelgard. She turns to leave the office. As she turns she hurriedly digs her phone out of her pocket, rapidly types on it.

Byleth’s phone, still in Edelgard’s purse, buzzes.

Lysithea freezes mid stride, quickly turning to gape in horror. She looks at Edelgard’s purse. Types a little bit more. The phone buzzes again. Lysithea looks at Edelgard. Edelgard raises an eyebrow. As cool and calm as possible, she asks, “Is anything wrong?”

The admin assistant taps a few more times on her phone. Edelgard’s purse buzzes again. “Nothing’s wrong, Miss Edelgard!” says Lysithea, a wild look in her wide eyes. She turns to leave again, practically scrambling to run out. She closes the door behind her, almost too gently.

From Edelgard’s seat, she can faintly hear Lysithea’s distant shouts of “ _Oh my fucking god BYLETH WHERE ARE YOU?”_

Edelgard pinches the bridge of her nose. Exhales. Deeply. Today’s going to be a long day, for sure.

Dorothea practically kicks the office door open. She tears off the shades she was wearing, throws it aside. A very, _very_ long day for Edelgard.

“Dorothea? Is everything okay?” asks Edelgard, as innocently as she can. She’s about two questions about Byleth away from imploding.

“Edie. Smoke break. _Now._ ” Dorothea marches past Edelgard, not even waiting for a response.

Another deep exhale from Edelgard. She fishes out her cigarettes from her purse. Follows after Dorothea.

She sees the woman outside, leaning over the railing and taking puff after puff out of her vape. She groans, very loudly.

“ _Edie,_ ” she says, without even turning around.

“Is this about the shirt? I swear I can explain,” goes Edelgard, panicking. She shakily sets a cigarette between her lips. Lights it.

“Shirt? What?” Dorothea quickly turns around. “Oh. That’s an ugly shirt.”

Edelgard takes a long puff out of her cigarette. She relaxes. “Oh, okay, so not about the shirt.”

“Well, since you brought it up, now I’m convinced that there’s something about your ugly shirt.” Dorothea shakes her head. “Later. Anyway, I have a problem. A big one.”

“Okay? Shoot.”

“ _So,_ ” goes Dorothea, turning over again to lean over the railing. “You know Petra and I are seeing each other, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” answers Edelgard, leaning over the rail too. “What about it?”

“So yeah. We uh. Slept together last night.”

Edelgard can’t help it. She blushes. “Wow. Okay. So what’s the problem?”

“Yeah…” goes Dorothea. She buries her face in her hands. Groans again, loudly.

“The problem?” repeats Edelgard.

“The problem…” says Dorothea, slowly, as she slumps over the rail, “I may have… moaned out… _your_ name.”

“You _what?_ ”

“I know, I know… _ugh…_ ” goes Dorothea, wincing. She takes a long drag out of her vape. Edelgard does the same.

Edelgard says nothing. She isn’t sure what she _should_ say, even. _Thanks for still thinking about me, after all this time? Wow, you must be so hung up you’re thinking about me during sex? Wait, I thought you were over things already?_ Edelgard settles for blowing out more plumes of smoke. Immediately lights another one when the one she’s smoking quickly burns out.

“Listen,” goes Dorothea, after eons of silence pass. “I can explain.”

“Go on.”

“I…” she starts. Stops. Buries her face in her hands again to groan some more. “ _I._ ”

“ _You_ ,” goes Edelgard, in an attempt to move the conversation along.

“I… wait. That car looks familiar.” Dorothea stands up straighter. Points at a car in the parking lot.

“Hey now Dorothea, don’t think you can just change the topic.” Edelgard follows Dorothea’s pointed finger. Sees a familiar black luxury sedan with blacked out windows just parked in the parking lot. She freezes. “That car is my uncle’s.”

As if acknowledging that the two women have noticed it, the car starts. Drives away. No signal, no left letter. Nothing. As if it just wanted its presence to be known.

“Edie?” goes Dorothea. “Is there something up with your family business?”

Ice, in the pit of Edelgard’s stomach. She looks down at the ground. More like a lot of business she’d been neglecting.

“N...Nothing… I think… I think I need to get to back to work. Immediately.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the long break!!!! aaaaaaa!!!!!! I'll get back to this!!!!!!! Also I think I got... Rusty??? Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chap!


	15. Emails 2

Emails 2

From: Edelgard Hresvelg ([ehresvelg@befitness.com](mailto:ehresvelg@befitness.com))

To: Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Hello everyone,

This is just a general reminder that at this point, we are just **5 days** away from the event. That said, I’d like to take a moment, if a bit prematurely, to already congratulate the team. Coordination with the Blue Lions and the Golden Deer have been going very smoothly, and I am proud of each and every one of you for the level of responsibility, reliability, and professionalism you have been showing. Thank you! It is because of your efforts that the event is shaping up beautifully.

Let’s keep it up!

I would also like to urge everyone to be more careful. According to recent news, there have been sinkholes popping up in random places in the city. It would be prudent to practice precautionary measures whenever possible. Keep a means of contact on your person at all times. Drive safely.

And as an aside, I am also reminding everyone to _please_ stop messaging me about my love life. _Especially_ via email. It would seem that some of you email each other outside of work engagements. That in itself is fine, but please make sure I am not looped in any emails that you plan to gossip about me in. To answer the question that so many of you seem to be so hotly debating: _No, I am not seeing anyone at the moment_.

That will be all. There’s no need to acknowledge this email.

Regards,

Edelgard Hresvelg

Owner and President

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Bernadetta Varley ([bvarley@befitness.com](mailto:bvarley@befitness.com))

To: Edelgard Hresvelg ([ehresvelg@befitness.com](mailto:ehresvelg@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Hello Miss Hresvelg,

Understood! Thank you for your concern and praise!

Best,

Bernadetta Varley

Administrative Assistant

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Bernadetta Varley ([bvarley@befitness.com](mailto:bvarley@befitness.com))

To: Edelgard Hresvelg ([ehresvelg@befitness.com](mailto:ehresvelg@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

OMG I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO ACKNOWLEDGE THIS EMAIL HOW DO YOU DELETE AN EMAIL YOU ALREADY SENT I’M SO SORRY PLEASE DON’T FIRE ME

____________________

From: Caspar Bergliez ([cbergliez@befitness.com](mailto:cbergliez@befitness.com))

To: Edelgard Hresvelg ([ehresvelg@befitness.com](mailto:ehresvelg@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

HELLO EVERYONE,

ALSO ACKNOWLEDGING THIS EMAIL SO THAT BERNIEBABES STOPS CRYING

Cheers!

Caspar Bergliez

Coach

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

____________________

From: Byleth Eisner ([beisner@befitness.com](mailto:beisner@befitness.com))

To: Edelgard Hresvelg ([ehresvelg@befitness.com](mailto:ehresvelg@befitness.com)), Black Eagle Strike Force Team

Hello El,

I’m confused, if you aren’t seeing anyone you might need your eyes checked. Is this why you were asking me if I was seeing anyone? This is concerning. I can drive you to the doctor after work, if you like. I can see you just fine.

Regards,

Byleth Eisner

Head Coach

Black Eagle 24/7 Fitness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! double update!!!! although, this was a pretty short chap so I thought I'd just cram it in there. Also there was a joke and I didn't want to leave it hanging for too long hahahahaha

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying out something new. Let me know what you think! :) 
> 
> (Come say hello via @IronShiba on the Twitter)


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